The Usual Mayhem
by SuperSekritID
Summary: Stephanie takes a simple, one-day job with Ranger which creates repercussions that affect her relationships with both the men in her life.
1. Chapter 1

**All the recognizable characters in this story are created by and belong to Janet Evanovich. I use them without permission and I derive no financial benefit from this story.**

Several characters are my creations (Paco Lopez, Alicia Lopez, Andy Lopez, Hank and several bit characters) as is the story line.

A general warning that there are spoilers everywhere. I have assumed that you've read everything (_One for the Money_ all the way through to _Finger Lickin' Fifteen_). You may find adult content (bad language, bad habits, violence, probably sex) either inferred or depicted. I try not to do it gratuitously.

**EDIT 22 JULY 2009**

I've had a number of complaints about the twists and turns in this story, so I want to add this rider: I treat Joe very nicely; I treat Ranger even better (because the man is hot, right?). Steph is as confused as always but she comes good in the end. All I ask is that you keep the faith.

oOoOoOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 1: The Job Offer**

My job doesn't come with what you would call side benefits but if I had to name a perk it would be that I don't have to wear panty hose. It's not much as perks go but you've got to suck the joy where you can get it, right?

My name is Stephanie Plum and I'm a bounty hunter – a Bond Enforcement Agent if you want to get formal. I work for my cousin's agency, Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, in Trenton, New Jersey, chasing down scofflaws who are FTA – fail to appear – for a court date. I convince them to change their minds by using a mix of tenacity, sneakiness and sheer dumb luck.

I'm not the world's greatest bounty hunter but I've learned a lot since I took on the job. The improvement, and the fact that I'm still alive, is due to my friend and mentor, Ricardo Carlos Manoso, who goes by the street name Ranger. He's Cuban American, with piercing, dark eyes and dark hair, skin like dusky caramel silk, a killer body and a smile that makes women walk into walls.

In an earlier life, Ranger was Special Forces and he has skills that border on superhero. Just like a superhero, no one knows much about him, though I know more than most. When I met him, he was Vinnie's numero uno bounty hunter and he still takes on the high bond cases I can't handle. Ranger can be a scary guy but I trust him and he's become a constant in my life. When things go pear-shaped, he's there to catch me. He's the one I turn to, and not just when a skip is too much to handle.

These days he runs his own successful company, Rangeman, dealing in security – personal, corporate and global. Sometimes I suspect he's on call with the FBI, CIA, Interpol, the UN and the Justice League. Having Ranger as a friend is equal parts exhilarating and scary and it creates all kinds of complications in my life.

I had just pulled into my building's lot and managed to score a parking space close to the back door. I'd taken down my skip with minimal embarrassment; I hadn't rolled in garbage, ripped my clothes, been chased by humping dogs, shot at or wrestled any greased up naked men to the ground. And, I'd netted myself two hundred dollars. Not much for a week's work but it meant I was bringing home grocery bags. That made for a good day, so when the Batman theme song rang out on my cell the buzz of success made me braver than usual when I answered.

"Yo," I said, using Ranger's standard phone greeting.

"I need you tomorrow, babe." Ranger doesn't do chitchat.

"Gee, Ranger, I don't know. This is so sudden. I may need to wash my hair." There was a beat of silence at the other end and I hoped it meant he was smiling.

"Playful," he said, his voice soft and deep. "Glad you had a good day, babe. I've got some fun lined up for you tomorrow."

I chewed my lip. Ranger has a strange sense of fun. He calls me in when a job needs feminine distraction in the form of sexy heels and short skirts. I rarely do any of the heavy lifting although Ranger appreciates my Spidey-sense and my talent for sneaky. Usually, I provide cleavage courtesy of Victoria's Secret while Ranger and his Merry Men do the rest, but any job I get involved in has a way of getting out of hand.

"I can hear the gears working, babe. You need me to come over and persuade you?"

Tempting but dangerous. Ranger is hotter than July and far too persuasive. "Tomorrow is Saturday," I countered.

"You got plans?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'm holding out for a date."

"You want a date, babe? I can help you with that."

Instant hot flash. Ranger doesn't date and I was pretty sure he was messing with me but just thinking about the possibility caused a temporary lapse of cognitive function. A while ago we spent one, spectacular, mind-blowing night together and the experience had added a whole new dimension to my fantasy life. There were some powerful emotional and sexual feelings between us and, for me, that night had added fuel to the flame rather than dampening it down. Problem was, Ranger had made it clear that he wasn't a commitment kind of guy, so no way was I going there again. Still, the sexual tension simmers and causes me chronic stupidity when I'm around him. It's an itch I can't scratch.

"How about you tell me about the job?" I asked.

"A day at the beach. We're flushing out a woman trying to smuggle her son out of the country and his father objects."

"Why does she want to smuggle out her son? Why are you helping the dad? Is he the good guy?"

"Yeah, he's the good guy. You'll need to come here first to change. See you at eight."

He disconnected and left me chewing over the problem of how to avoid setting off a Morelli explosion.

Joe Morelli is six feet of lean, hard, Italian stud muffin and my on and off boyfriend. Currently, we're on. After a misspent youth brawling in bars and sowing wild oats through most of Jersey, the terror of Trenton motherhood had gone against all odds for Morelli men and developed a sense of responsibility. He's a good cop and has turned out a decent guy. Morelli still looks like trouble, the kind men don't want to tangle with and women fantasize about. I, personally, have been tangling with him since I was six years old.

Their jobs mean Morelli and Ranger have a professional relationship and a grudging, mutual respect. They also have an uneasy, Alpha-male truce going on that allows them to cooperate when I'm in trouble. Usually, that's convenient because it means I don't get dead. The rest of the time, I try not to think about the weird-ass triangle happening between the three of us. Taking the job tomorrow meant I'd have to navigate through it - again.

Morelli had made it clear, with much yelling and waving of arms, that he didn't want me working with Ranger. Apart from the personal issues, he thinks Ranger is not entirely sane and has a malleable attitude to the law. That last part is true; maybe even the first part. Ranger operates in accordance with a strict, personal moral code but I know he often walks on the dark side. Thing is, when it came down to the wire, I wasn't ever going to say no to Batman.

"So, how sneaky are you willing to be, Stephanie?" I asked myself. Talking to myself in the car seemed a little nuts so I got out and pulled the grocery bags from the back seat.

I spared a moment to smile at the shiny, yellow Mustang convertible that is all mine. It rattles at stops and the brakes have a mind of their own but it had survived two months without a scratch or a bullet hole – a personal record. The monthly payments were one of the reasons my cupboards were bare and I was having regular lunches and dinners at my parents' house.

I swung through the entry to the elevator. My building is a three-storey 1970s block and strictly utilitarian. Dillon, the building super, keeps things clean and functional but the building was never an architectural marvel and it has seen better days. Most of the residents are seniors whose main interests are the price of Metamucil, the calibre of their firearms and gossip.

Mr Landowski shuffled out of the elevator when the doors opened, his pants hitched up to his armpits. He was wearing a yellowing undershirt and the skin of his bony arms was sagging like it was three sizes too big. The sight was not a happy advertisement for aging well.

"Hey, chickie. Has it cooled down any out there? It's been too hot to go to the store."

"It's still pretty warm out, Mr Landowski." It was the beginning of June but the weather was late July.

He shook his head, shuffling towards the parking lot. "It's supposed to be hotter tomorrow. I hate this heat, it gives me the runs."

I nodded sympathetically as I hit the second floor button. Everything gives Mr Landowski the runs. He was right, though, it was unseasonably hot. Should be good for the beach tomorrow.

_Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie,_ said the tiny voice of responsible Stephanie in the back of my head as I walked toward my door, _you're playing with fire._

The stupid Stephanie was trying to talk me into it. _This is business,_ I thought, unlocking my three locks. _I need the money and Morelli has no right to interfere in my work. I won't lie to him, I'll just omit some information. And it's not like Ranger is asking me on a date._ I tingled at the thought. _Just another working day._

My apartment overlooks the back parking lot and the fire escape outside my bedroom window is an excellent place to sit on a hot summer evening with a beer. It could double as an isolation unit for houseplants with aphids, except I don't have any houseplants. The inside of my apartment is as utilitarian as the outside.

My small entry foyer has hooks for bags and jackets, the kitchen comes off the hall and the entry opens into a small living-dining room. One bed and one bath. After the most recent fire, everything is new and everything is beige – carpet, drapes, walls and the whole kitchen. Except for the bathroom, which is resplendent in its original '70s brown and green tile. Just my luck that the bathroom was, once again, the only room to survive the firebomb intact. My furniture is functional, budget and there's not much of it. Occasionally I have decorating ideas involving throw cushions and bric-a-brac but finances usually put the brakes on any interior design momentum.

I dumped the bags on the kitchen counter and tapped on Rex's aquarium. "Hey buddy, I've got food!"

The wood shavings moved around and Rex backed his little hamster butt out of his soup can. I dug around in one of the bags and dropped two grapes in his bowl. He twitched his whiskers and his beady little black eyes glistened as he stuffed both grapes into his cheek and disappeared back into the can. Food is the way into a hamster's heart.

Morelli rang as I was putting the finishing touches to a peanut butter and olive sandwich. "Hey, Cupcake, how was your day?"

"It was excellent! I have food."

"If it's your mom's leftovers, save some for me."

"Nope. I have my very own groceries. I took in Beany Otis."

"I heard. Costanza said it lacked the usual level of excitement. He sounded disappointed." Carl Costanza is a cop and an old friend who considers my take-downs a form of personal entertainment.

"I was completely professional. I'm celebrating with a gourmet sandwich."

Morelli chuckled, then his voice deepened to whiskey-smooth. "We could celebrate some more later. I'll be done in a couple hours. You could come over, we could get naked and sweaty and I'll set off some fireworks for you."

No kidding. Morelli gets a lot of practice in lighting my fireworks.

"Aren't you knee-deep in the Becker case?" I asked. "It sounded like you'd be pulling an all-nighter."

"We're at a stalemate. I'm taking the night off to get some perspective. I'm thinking you could help me with that. I'm thinking a night of wild gorilla sex would give me just the right perspective for tomorrow."

I pricked my ears. Not at the wild gorilla sex, because that was standard Morelli, but if he was working tomorrow he'd be out the door by seven and I wouldn't have to come up with any awkward explanations for how I was spending the day.

"I can see how that would motivate you but what's in it for me?" I asked.

"Wild gorilla sex." I could hear the smile in his voice and I felt a goofy grin spread over my face.

"You going in early?" I checked.

"Yeah. I have to be at the office by seven and I don't know when I'll get out. So. Tonight's celebration. Your place or mine?" he asked.

"Yours. Otherwise Bob will eat the couch while you're gone." Morelli's dog, Bob, is a friendly, orange, hairy mutt with a bottomless appetite and no discrimination.

"Good call, Cupcake."

"You remember it's Friday, right?" Friday dinner with my parents is a non-negotiable fixture and it has the added benefit of leftovers for the next day. The last couple of years Morelli has filled a chair, on and off.

"Highlight of my week. I'll meet you there at six."

_TBC_

oOoOoOo

_A brief comment letting me know whether you have enjoyed this chapter (or not) would be very much appreciated._

_Ssi_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 2 : The Dress**

I woke up in a tangle of sheets with Morelli nuzzling my neck. He was showered and dressed, ready for the day.

"Gotta go, Cupcake," he breathed into my hair. "I wasn't going to wake you but you were looking all warm and edible."

I rolled over and pulled him down to kiss him goodbye. He lay on top of the sheets, holding me close to trail soft kisses along my shoulder before working his way up my neck back to my mouth. We were at risk of getting hot and sweaty again when he reluctantly pulled back.

"Wow! That woke me up," I said, smiling up at him. Morelli is a great kisser.

He smiled back and brushed his mouth over mine. "Wish I could take advantage but I can't be late today. I have an appointment with a snitch."

He rolled off the bed, tucking his t-shirt back in his jeans. His brown eyes had melted to dark chocolate after kissing me and he watched me stretch as he rearranged his clothes, tucked his gun into his shoulder holster and covered it with the loose, unbuttoned shirt. He was overdue for a hair cut and his black hair was still damp where it curled over his ears. He looked movie-star handsome. My eyes dropped to the appreciative bulge in his pants and Morelli flashed me a rakish grin, twitching his eyebrows up and down.

"See something you like, Cupcake?" I can't help it; I like what's in his pants. I worked to keep back a smile.

I waited until his engine faded in the distance then took off for the bathroom at a run. Ranger is a little nuts about punctuality. I showered, dressed and did make up in record time then took Bob out for a quick tinkle on the scorched grass. I tapped my feet impatiently until he was done. Bob is a big, loveable goof but he has the bladder of an elephant. I locked up and headed for Rangeman, detouring for the drive-through at _Dunkin' Donuts_ to pick up breakfast.

Rangeman is in Haywood Street, on the edge of commercial, downtown Trenton and less than fifteen minutes from my apartment on the edge of the Burg. It's a nondescript, seven-storey building containing offices and conference rooms, communications control center, comfortable studio apartments for the men, gym, recreation room, shooting range, holding cells, interrogation rooms and underground parking. The interior is fitted out with the latest in techno-slick, all understated quality. The whole building is as secure as the Pentagon.

I drove through the parking gates and slid into one of the empty spaces between Ranger's two black Porsches and his newest toy, a black Mercedes SLK 55 Roadster. The sunshine yellow of my car was the only splash of color; all Rangeman vehicles are black, sleek and new. I brushed sugar off my clothes, mouth, chin and hands, checked my t-shirt for jelly drips and left the crumpled _Dunkin' Donuts_ bag in the car. I didn't want to be lectured by Ranger on my body being a temple.

I didn't bother fighting with the parking brake because the car wouldn't roll. The Rangeman garage is guaranteed level or Ranger would have something to say about it. I finger-waved and smiled at the security camera to whichever of the Merry Men was manning the monitors and stepped into the elevator. My security fob is coded for access to the whole building. I zapped it over the keypad, punched in seven and a minute later, I stepped out onto the marble foyer on Ranger's private floor.

I let myself into his apartment and the cool calm washed over me. Ranger lives well. His apartment is quiet luxury, professionally decorated in browns and creams. It is masculine and minimalist, with leather, chrome and rich, polished woods, and exudes warmth even though there are no personal touches – no photos, no books, no souvenirs. The clothes hanging in his dressing room are the only sign that anyone lives here. His housekeeper, Ella, cleans, does his laundry, provides five-star meals and ensures everything is just as it should be.

Rangeman doesn't have a women's locker room as there are only two female employees. Ella and her husband, Luis Guzman, have an apartment on the sixth floor so she doesn't need a locker room. When I need to shower or change, I get to use Ranger's apartment. I've lived here a couple times for short periods, using it as a refuge when I was threatened with violent death. I love this apartment and I always feel the thrill of stolen intimacy when I'm in here.

I could smell coffee and hear Ranger's voice on the phone in the kitchen.

"Babe," he called out. "The bags are on the bed. I'll be done in a minute."

I walked through to his bedroom and left my pocketbook on the club lounge in his private nook. Ella had shopped for me – she bought all my Rangeman clothes and knew my size. One of the designer bags was labeled Manolo Blahnik. _Excellent!_ I didn't recognize the label on the other one so I dug in and pulled the dress out of acres of tissue paper.

My chin dropped. Candy stripes. Magenta lace trim. Tiny demi-bra cups. Back-laced corset bodice. Peekaboo slits on the thighs. And I'd need to grease up to shoe-horn myself into the itty bitty scrap of fabric. I wondered whether Ella had been scavenging in _Pleasure Treasures,_ the sex toys shop whose owner I'd taken in some months ago.

I wrestled it on, stepped into the heels, then stared unbelieving at the mirror in Ranger's bathroom. I'm a 5'7" Italian-Hungarian. From the Italian side I'd inherited an abundance of curly, brown hair, a tendency to yell under stress and a lot of interesting hand gestures. The Hungarian side had provided blue eyes, glow in the dark complexion and sturdy peasant bones. The dress hadn't been designed with sturdy peasant bones in mind. I walked to the bedroom door and cracked it open.

"I can't wear this," I called. Silence. "Ranger, I'm not wearing this dress. I'll go back to my apartment to find something else."

"What's wrong with the dress?" I didn't know where to start. Barbarella meets bordello could do it. "Babe?"

"It's too tight. The lacing doesn't meet in the back. It's got slits. I'm not sure it's even got a skirt. And it's candy-striped!"

He didn't respond for a long beat, then, "Come here and let me see."

"No, I am not letting you see! I'm not wearing it where _anyone_ can see–." Especially not Morelli or anyone remotely associated with Morelli.

Ranger pushed open the door and cut me off. He was in his trademark Rangeman black; t-shirt hugging his ripped torso and sculpted biceps, cargo pants fitted over a perfect ass that could crack walnuts. His hair was mid-length and had fallen over his eyes. He looked breathtaking. Yeah, I know. I'd thought the same thing about Morelli an hour ago. So bite me, I lust over two men.

Ranger's eyes cut from mine to the dress and he did a double take, his mouth falling open. He pressed his lips tight and looked me over slowly.

"Babe," he breathed.

I felt a flush rising and squirmed. "I look ridiculous."

He moved his chin to one side, the Ranger equivalent of vigorously shaking his head. "That's not the word I would use, babe."

I had a pretty good idea of some of the words on his mind and the flush spread.

"I can't walk in this without giving the world a peep show."

Ranger dragged his eyes from my legs, to the inadequate half cups, back to my face and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Alicia bought this dress from her favorite designer three weeks ago. If she sees you wearing the same outfit while strolling around with her ex-husband, she won't be able to resist coming at him."

Great! I'll have to run away from our client's crazed ex-wife in Manolo Blahniks and a dress that barely covers my ass.

From what Ranger had told me when I called to confirm the job, Alicia had a volcanic temper. Her former husband, Paco Lopez, was the big new name in New York fashion and celebrity photography and Alicia accused him of fooling around with his models. As Lopez got more successful, Alicia's jealousy jacked up and she got paranoid and violent. He filed for divorce after she broke his leg with his camera tripod and threatened his family jewels would be next.

Lopez couldn't cut ties because Alicia had joint custody of their six-year-old son, Andy. Three days ago she'd left her Park Avenue apartment with Andy, telling her housekeeper they were going on vacation. Two days ago, Lopez had contacted Rangeman, fearing she intended to take the boy back to her family in Brazil, permanently. Andy was with his mother legally and there was no evidence she was planning to run, so the police couldn't do anything. But Ranger could.

Ranger watched me as I weighed it all. "You're wearing it for the greater good, babe," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. Asshole. He was going to make me wear it.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I look like Madame Lollipop," I muttered.

Ranger gave me the slow smile that starts my insides simmering and his eyes darkened. He slung an arm around my waist and pulled me close. "Babe, I don't eat candy but you're making me hungry enough to make an exception."

A wave of heat rushed up from the deep south and my nipples stood at attention. Luckily, they snagged on the lace trim of the micro bra cups, so he didn't notice.

OooOoOoOo

_Reviews always welcome and appreciated. Would love to know what you think!_

_Ssi_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Recognisable characters are the property of Janet Evanovich and are used without permission. I make no profit from their use.

Storyline is mine.

OoOoO

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 3: Raising the Stakes**

Ranger and I took off for Point Pleasant in the Mercedes while Tank, Lester, Ram and Hal followed in two of the Explorers. Ranger had the drop-top of the convertible closed and the air conditioning on and I had the Lopez file open over my thighs, trying to cover what the skirt didn't. Ranger cut his eyes to my lap and the corners of his mouth tipped up. I was amusing him. Then he went into his zone and focused on the road. I tried to ignore his magnetic pull by reading through the file.

I pulled out photos. Alicia Pereira Lopez was gorgeous. Blonde, green almond-shaped eyes, olive skin, an exotic, miniature Brazilian Barbie transplanted into New York celebrity society. The expression around her mouth told me she was a woman used to getting her way.

According to the file, her family was very wealthy, but it was dirty money. Her mother's family, the Alvarez, had land holdings in Brazil, Argentina and Colombia on which they grew illicit crops alongside coffee, ran cattle and cut down rainforests. The Pereiras owned an international shipping company that moved goods – quite a lot of them illegal – everywhere. The two families were connected all over South America, with all the wrong people in all the wrong ways.

Alicia moved to New York to chase her interest in fashion and she put down roots when she married Lopez. She appeared to have clean hands but I could understand why Lopez wanted to keep his son away from his ex-wife's family. What I couldn't understand was what such a high-maintenance woman was doing in Point Pleasant.

"Why are you so sure that she's here?" I asked.

Ranger kept his eyes on the road. "We got access to her accounts. The last three days she's been using her plastic at the beach in the triangle east of Pleasant Canal. We can't narrow it down any more than that. We've found no trace of where she's staying. No hotel bookings, no apartment rentals, nothing. We know she's been taking Andy to the boardwalk every day and eating out with him at the better restaurants."

I checked the snap of Andy. Cheeky kid with big brown eyes, a shock of wild black hair, dimples. He looked happy. I compared his face to Alicia's and decided he must take after his dad.

"I still don't get it. She looks more Miami money than Jersey shore."

He cut his eyes to me for a second. "Good call, babe. She has a house in Boca and a lot of connections in Miami. At Point Pleasant, she's anonymous. She has an acquaintance in Mantoloking but we're watching and she's made no contact. That's the attraction for her: she won't be noticed here."

I looked back at her photo. "You think?"

Ranger did his thinking-about-smiling thing. "She's keeping a low profile."

"But why here, exactly?"

"The marinas and anonymity. Her uncle, Benito Alvarez, has an ocean-going yacht. It docked in Miami three weeks ago and has been slowly heading north up the east coast since then. According to my source in the Coast Guard, it should reach the water around Bay Head some time tonight or tomorrow morning. My bet is Alicia will be taking Andy out in a boat to rendezvous with it tomorrow when the channels are busiest. Probably during the regatta, so they can use it as camouflage."

Sheesh! Why can't she smuggle her son out on a plane, like a normal person. "You don't know which marina?"

Ranger shook his head once. "No. She could be leaving from any of a thousand private berths. We can't watch everywhere. We have to find Andy today, while she's giving him his final day of fun on the boardwalk."

I thought about the miles of boardwalk and the crowds the nice weather had attracted to the shore. "What if we don't find them today?"

"Then we find the yacht tomorrow. But that would be troublesome." Master of understatement.

I was chewing that over when Morelli's distinctive ring tone blared and my stomach dropped. I sucked in a breath and answered.

"Hey, Cupcake. How's your day?"

"It's okay."

"I'll finish up earlier than I thought." I recognized Morelli's warm, lazy, Saturday-afternoon-off voice. I liked this voice. It reminded me of cosy afternoons snuggling on his couch with nothing much to do. I hoped it wouldn't change into his pissed off voice by the end of the conversation.

"Oh. How much earlier?"

"I'm outta here in an hour and a half. I thought I'd pick us up some meatball subs and a couple beers, you could bring Bob and we could meet by the lake for a picnic."

"Oh." _Crap. _Not only was I missing out on a picnic, I was playing the evade-and-omit game with Morelli. I'd be suffering self-induced guilt for the next week.

"Oh? I'm detecting a distinct lack of enthusiasm here. You okay? What's going on?"

"Nothing." Nothing but subterfuge and intrigue. "It's just, I thought you were working all day and it's so nice out I decided to spend the day at the beach. So, that's where I'm heading. I'm on my way to the shore." I glanced up at Ranger but he was eyes front and granite-faced.

There was a long silence on the phone. "You decided to go to the shore?" Morelli sounded incredulous.

"It was toss up between the boardwalk or stay home and scrub the bathroom. It was a tough choice."

"No. I'm not buying it, Cupcake. It's not like you to just take off for the shore. What's going on? Are you and Lula chasing a skip down there?"

Lula is my regular sidekick when I'm chasing down FTA's. She's a generously endowed, plus-sized black woman stuffed into petite-sized neon Lycra. Lula is larger than life in other ways, too. She's a former 'ho, brash, smart and one of my best friends. The two of us have occasionally been distracted by the boardwalk while on a job.

I sighed. "Okay. You got me. I'm working."

"You didn't say who you're working _with._" Silence. "Stephanie, is Lula with you?" Morelli's cop nose could smell a rat over the phone.

I sighed again. I wasn't getting out of this one. "Not exactly."

"God damn it, Stephanie! You're working with Ranger again. We talked about this and we agreed you wouldn't take any more of his nutcase jobs."

I pulled the phone away from my ear to prevent permanent hearing loss. I was getting pissed off now. There's nothing like a man trying to do the macho power thing over me to get my blood up.

"No, _you_ talked about it and you came to your own conclusions. Listen, Morelli, this is my job and I make my own choices about it. And you could show me some support."

"If you made responsible choices, I'd be able to support them!" he yelled.

"Hey! What was that?" I yelled back.

The Italian male in Morelli has a hard time keeping a lid on his anger. When he loses it, he shuts down into cop mode and now his voice got cold and detached.

"You choose to work with a man who plays fast and loose with the law. I don't call that a responsible choice. When he goes down, and he will, I don't want you going down with him. And that's not my biggest problem. This isn't about the job and you know it. It's about you and me, and Ranger getting in the middle."

I bit my lip. This had been a long time coming but his timing sucked. "Joe. I can't do this now."

I heard him take a big breath and blow out air. "I know. But I'm not letting this ride. We _are_ going to talk about this. And you be careful out there today. Poor, dumb bastard." He disconnected. I knew Morelli had insulted somebody but I wasn't sure whether it was me or Ranger.

The day was just getting better and better. I couldn't think of anything I'd rather have hanging over my head than a deep and meaningful talk with Morelli about my job and our future and the Ranger factor. I was seriously considering moving to Atlantic City, immediately. Or maybe Alaska.

I glanced up at Ranger and found him watching me, his face giving nothing away. Ranger is a hard man to read even when he's talking and he wasn't doing any. Faced with an uncomfortable silence, I did what I always do. I blabbed.

"Morelli doesn't want me working with you."

"Babe, Morelli doesn't want you anywhere near me, ever," Ranger corrected, eyes front again.

"He thinks the risk is too high," I countered.

Ranger shot me a look, his mouth tipping into a smile. "For you? Or for him?"

No way was I going to answer that. Truth is, proximity to Ranger makes me question my relationship with Morelli. Heck, there are times when it makes me forget I have a relationship at all. I turned my attention back to the file in my lap.

Ranger wouldn't let it lie. "Have you got a stake in this, babe? Is being around me too big a risk?"

_What?_ Whether he intends it or not, Ranger messes with my emotions and this was stirring my emotional pot one time too many. My anger with Morelli suddenly changed direction and I snapped.

"You know what, you don't get to ask questions like that. You forfeited the right when you told me to repair my relationship with Morelli." _The very day after you chose to sleep with me!_ Whoa. I'd been carrying that with me a long time.

I heard my voice pitched high and loud but I was on a roll. " 'No emotional price,' you said, but what you _meant_ was you won't commit to anything more than one night at a time with no strings attached! Wham, bam, thank you ma'am!"

It felt so good to finally get it off my chest that I kept going. "You wanted me to look to Morelli for the meat and potatoes so that _you_ could provide cake when you _felt_ like it. 'I'm dessert,' you said. Well, now Morelli is committed to me. He's stepping up. He wants to marry me. And I should risk this for...what, exactly?"

I glared at his profile, fuming. Ranger was relaxed, breathing easy. "Babe."

That was all he had? _Babe?_ If he wasn't driving the car down a highway, I'd have socked him one.

"You are such a jerk, Manoso!" I bit off, as soon as I could speak without shrieking like a banshee. I clenched my arms across my chest so I wouldn't be tempted to go at him and hoped I wouldn't pop any veins or eyeballs.

"You all done now?" he asked, when I'd stopped breathing fire out of my nostrils.

"Yeah, I'm all done talking to you," I said, through clenched teeth. I shot him a dirty look and caught him watching me. His voice had sounded calm but his eyes were black and intense, scorching. I couldn't read the emotion rolling off him but I felt buffeted. It was so unexpected I was startled out of my anger and I stared at him. Then the road demanded his attention and I saw him take a breath and slip right back into his zone.

I sank into the leather seat, shaking a little on the inside and wondering what I'd missed. I rewound the last few minutes and thought about Ranger's question, trying to figure out what he meant. What did I have at stake? I loved Morelli but, if I was honest, in all the time we'd been together I was the one who backed off from commitment. I'd been hedging my bets while Morelli was betting everything he had on our relationship working. He was staking high and I was fence-sitting.

And what the hell was Ranger offering anyway? Another kiss and fondle in the back alley that had me befuddled for days? A night of fire and magic with a vanishing act when the sun came up? True, Ranger performed magic like no one else, but it wasn't something a girl could hold on to. Although, Ranger _was_ magic, magic hands, magic mouth, magic body, magic voice...

Okay, mental head-slap. Didn't I just go into full rhino mode on him about this? Today was about work. That's it. Focus on the Lopez job and don't think about Mr Magic.

Denial works surprisingly well if you stick with it.

OooOoOoOo

_Thank you for all the support. Please keep reading – and all reviews, good or bad, are really appreciated._


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to everyone who has posted reviews and sent private messages – your suggestions and comments have been really encouraging and helpful.

Sesi

oOoOoOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 4: The Beach**

The last ten minutes of the drive were amongst the most uncomfortable I'd ever spent in Ranger's company. I had let the genie out of the bottle and I was freaking out that I wouldn't be able to get it back in. Ranger was seriously pissed. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but the level of bad juju in the car was so high the static was making my hair frizz into a white girl afro. Plus, I was feeling the heat of my own leftover wrath, although I wasn't sure who I was mad at the most out of the three of us, Ranger, Morelli or me.

Ranger's parking kharma guaranteed us a spot outside the hole in the wall where we were meeting Lopez. I reached for the door handle, relieved to escape from the simmering tension, but he stopped me with a hand to my wrist. He opened the glove compartment, pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and handed it to me.

"You're going to be out in the sun all day. You don't want to be barbequed." His eyes, still sizzling, were doing a pretty good job of barbequing me all by themselves.

"Thank you," I said, resorting to cool politeness. "I probably should have brought a hat."

I smothered myself in lotion, kicking off the shoes to work up from my toes. Ranger watched me, his face impassive but his eyes glittered darkly as he followed every move. I stroked lotion over my legs, my arms, across my chest and down into my cleavage. It felt oddly erotic to have Ranger as audience and a flush crept its way up as I reached around awkwardly to reach my back. Ranger took the bottle out of my hand.

"Turn around."

"I'm capable of doing it myself," I protested. I was mad at him but it was a dead certainty that Ranger's hands on me would cause a hormone spike I didn't want to deal with.

"Babe, you're going to have criss-cross sunburn on your back. Turn around."

He was right and I was being petulant. I sighed and turned in my seat, staring out of my window. Ranger gently wove his fingers through my hair and lifted it off the nape of my neck. He slipped the straps out of the way and smoothed his hands across my shoulders, along my neck and down between my shoulder blades, applying the lotion with slow, firm strokes.

I felt him tug the laces undone to loosen the bodice and my stomach fluttered. He smoothed lotion down my spine and around the back of my ribs. The air conditioner was pumping and the current of cool air on my freshly moistened skin made me shiver. Okay, maybe it wasn't the AC and the shivers were due to Ranger's hands on me. My eyes were starting to roll back in my head as he created a trail of magical goosebumps wherever he touched.

"You okay?"

I bit my lip and nodded silently. Ranger laced me up, playing with the tension of the satin ribbon. He brushed both hands up my arms, hooking his fingers under the straps to push them back up onto my shoulders. "You're done," he said.

You're telling me! Not more than a half hour ago I'd been ready to strangle him and now I was purring under his touch.

"Ready to go?" he asked and I detected the hint of smugness in his voice. Ranger doesn't miss much and the meaning of my shivers hadn't escaped him.

I pulled myself together and turned to look him in the eye. "Yes. And don't think that because I let you help me with the sunscreen that I'm over it. I'm still mad at you, Manoso."

Ranger's eyes narrowed and his lip curled. He reached across, wrapped his hands firmly around my ribs and pulled me onto his lap. And then, he kissed me. It was a no-holds-barred, tongue-to-tonsils, melt-your-socks-off kiss that left me breathless and fuzzy-brained.

I was wedged between his chest and the steering wheel so we were nose to nose when we sucked air again. His fingers were tangled in my hair and my hands gripped his shirt but I don't know whether I was pushing him away or pulling him close. I was getting whiplash from my own emotional swings.

I shook my head slightly, trying to kickstart my brain. "What was that?" My voice was a little ragged round the edges.

"Hit and run."

My jaw dropped. Ranger deposited me back in my seat, put on his black, mirrored sunglasses and stepped out of the car. I almost ripped the door off its hinges to beat him to the pavement.

"Hit and run? You arrogant son of a bitch!"

He tipped his head down to peer at me over the lenses. He moved in close, dropped his voice so only I would hear it. "Babe, I'll fight with you later if you want, I'll fight all night, but right now we have an appointment with a client."

I jammed my fists on my hips and gave him a face full of Jersey attitude. "Oh! Now you want professional?" I hissed right into his face. I swear I could see the steam coming out of my ears reflected in his mirror lenses. "Fine, I'll show you professional. I can professional your ass off. And you can bet your little black truck that we'll be circling back to this later."

Ranger took it without twitching a muscle. Actually, he did twitch at least one, to raise an eyebrow, and there might have been a bit of movement at the corners of his mouth. Asshole.

I was sucking down some Jersey shore air to calm down. It's a hefty cocktail of ozone and smog along with all those ocean-produced negative ions so it did a pretty good job although I would have preferred a donut.

I had to take a moment to readjust the doll-sized dress over my woman-sized body after our close encounter in the car. The Merry Men had parked nearby and walked over to join us, watching the Stephanie Show and trying not to smile. The man himself remained implacable.

Ranger gave the guys one of those patented Rangeman speaking looks and they stopped smirking and scattered into the strolling crowd. He escorted me into the Acapulco Bean and we found Lopez in the back corner. Lopez was about my height and an adult version of his son, with the same mischievous grin. He stood when he saw us coming, holding out his hand. "Mr Manoso," he greeted Ranger.

Ranger shook his hand and turned to introduce me. "Mr Lopez, this is my associate, Ms Plum. She'll be working with you today."

"Please, call me Stephanie, Mr Lopez." We shook hands and sat, Ranger with his back to the wall.

"And I'm Paco," he said, with a smile that was warm and genuine. He was very likeable and I gave him extra credit because his eyes hadn't strayed below my chin. I was surprised by Lopez' boyishness. He didn't look like a man who'd been married to Alicia. I expected a celebrity photographer to be more worldly but Lopez looked open and kind of sweet, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and soft mischief.

He looked back at Ranger. "You think this will work? We'll find Andy?"

Ranger was all business. "We think it's our best option. You and Stephanie will walk the length of the boardwalk and the arcades, spending time in the areas we identified, mostly where the child-friendly activities are located. Alicia has to think you and Stephanie are alone. We want to provoke a reaction so she'll come out of the shadows."

Lopez' eyes dropped to my dress, his brow creasing. "You sure? When Alicia sees Stephanie she's going to go nuts – that's her favorite designer, right? I covered his collection. She's going to think I gave this to Stephanie."

"That's the idea," Ranger explained. "We're out of time. We need to find Andy within the next eighteen hours. We know where she's most likely to be so you need to make yourselves very visible in those places. My men and I will create a surveillance net around you. As soon as we see Alicia, we'll move in."

Paco didn't look convinced but there was no way he was going to contradict Ranger. He sucked in a breath. "Okay, you're the expert. What are you going to do when she turns up?"

Ranger assessed him for a beat before answering. "We'll ascertain Andy's whereabouts and make sure he's safe, then we'll ask Alicia to accompany us to a police station."

Paco's eyebrows disappeared under his curly, black hair. He couldn't believe it would be that simple. I, on the other hand, had no doubt it would go down exactly as Ranger planned. Ranger knows how to exert pressure.

The man in black stood. "Let's get started."

Paco led the way and I started to follow when Ranger's arm circled my waist and pulled me back into his body, spinning me around so I faced him. Keeping his arm around me, he reached into one of his thousand pockets, fished out his SEAL cap and pulled it carefully down over my hair. He pushed some fly-away curls into place and adjusted the brim.

"Don't want your nose to burn."

I risked meeting his eyes and got my eyeballs scorched. He was still simmering behind the facade. That made two of us.

For the next five hours, Paco and I wandered up and down the boardwalk, trying to make a spectacle of ourselves.

When he wasn't worrying about Andy or whether Alicia was going to appear with a camera tripod to beat him up, Paco was a lot of fun. Before the first hour was up, we were kidding around like old friends, exchanging celebrity gossip. He had a self-deprecating humor and his stories about the idiosyncrasies of supermodels cracked me up. It felt like playing around with an old high school buddy. We ate swirly ice creams and cinnamon pretzels, drank sodas and sweltered in the heat. We played all the amusements, attracted as much attention as we could, enjoyed the beach performers, poked each other and kept moving. There was no sign of Alicia.

By three, I was ready to give away my Manolo Blahniks and I was beyond caring whether the dress rode up when I sat. We found a table in the shade and I flopped into a chair. I was starting to get a headache from the heat.

"I don't think she's here," Paco brooded. "I think she's on a plane with Andy."

I shook my head. "Ranger would know. He's very good. He's the best. You can trust him."

Paco blew out air. "Well, if Alicia's here, we haven't managed to attract her attention."

I scooped out the last of my chocolate sundae and licked the spoon while I thought about that. "You're right. If she's seen us, she hasn't gotten mad enough to come after you. Maybe we should push a little more, make her angry."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, how about we get a little friendlier?" It wasn't the sort of thing I'd normally suggest but I was comfortable with Paco and I was getting antsy about finding Andy. The afternoon was wearing on and I didn't want to think about the search continuing beyond the day.

Paco flashed a wide grin and waggled his eyebrows at me. "Okay. I'll follow your lead. If she's around, it'll work, probably too well. But you better be prepared because she's not going to like it." I had a feeling Ranger wouldn't like it either but never let it be said that I wouldn't take the tiger by the tail. Stupid is one of my specialties.

"Let's find a place to sit where we can be seen," Paco suggested. We found a bench and I settled myself in Paco's lap with my arms around his neck, canoodling in the sun. Within seconds my phone rang.

"What are you doing, babe?"

"Just being friendly," I said, nuzzling into Paco's neck while I talked. "It's mid-afternoon and we haven't seen any sign of Alicia. I thought if we got a little more sociable she'd make a move. If she's anywhere around here."

"She's here. My radar's buzzing so loud I'm getting a headache."

"Maybe you're getting a heat stroke." Ranger ignored the funny and I stifled a sigh.

"Keep moving around. And be careful about Alicia. You want to flush her out but if you push her too far, you'll make her crazy."

"You really think this will make her crazy?"

"It's making me crazy." Huh.

"Ranger says we have to keep moving," I told Paco.

We set off, my arm around his waist and his slung over my shoulder, nuzzling my hair as we walked. We stuck to the areas where the parents with kids were, flirting blatantly. Paco was careful with his hands, his mouth barely brushing my skin, but anyone watching would be getting a different impression.

I hadn't seen a trace of Ranger or any of the guys the whole day – miraculous when you consider they're all big, built and dressed in black – but now, even though I couldn't see him, I could feel Ranger's intense, disapproving eyes on me like laser beams. Electric tingles rode up and down my spine and my gut tightened. I was deliberately playing up to Paco much more than was necessary to provoke Alicia. I was getting a kick out of needling Ranger after the episode in the car. Take that, Mr hit-and-run! Maybe I'd raise the stakes for him a little. When it comes to exerting pressure, I'd learned from the best.

We stopped near some kiddy rides, pretending to be entertained. We had our arms wrapped around each other's waists and were nose to nose as we discussed what to do next. I leaned into Paco and he suddenly froze. I pulled back to look into his face and saw his eyes wide, fixed on the cup and saucer ride behind me.

"Andy!" he breathed.

I grabbed tight to hold him in place just as pandemonium broke out. A safety railing crashed down in the middle of the crowd of parents and people started yelling as a woman's shrieking voice could be heard over the noise. Alicia, in a carbon copy of the dress I was wearing, stood near the fallen railing, shouting curses at us in English and Portuguese. I could tell they were curses by the unflattering tone.

_"Bastardo!_ Can't you keep your hands off your whore in public? _Cadela! Meretriz __desavergonhada!"_ *

Faster than I could react, her arm flicked forward. A bottle moved through the air so fast it blurred before connecting with my ribs. Glass was smashing all around us as Alicia picked up glasses and bottles from the tables nearby and furiously threw them at us, cussing and screaming.

After her first lucky shot at me, her aim was awful but she was fast and she was mad. Paco placed himself between me and the flying glass, supporting me while I got my breath back. People were scrambling out of the way, kids were crying, parents were screaming and a crowd of onlookers gathered around the action like middle schoolers at a playground brawl. Paco edged us away from her and I was looking around for men in black to appear when my peripheral vision caught a candy-striped streak flying towards me. Next moment I was airborne as Alicia and I tumbled off the boardwalk onto sand.

Where the hell was Ranger? We rolled around, both of us scrambling to get on top, the pain in my side forgotten in the adrenaline rush. Alicia was trying to sink her teeth into my arm so I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. I had sand in my hair and in my mouth and in my eyes and it was working its way past my thong. She was all flashing green eyes, wild blonde hair and gnashing teeth but I'd done time wresting big, fat, stinky drunks, some of them naked and all of them meaner than snakes, so I was all over her.

I'd finally rolled her on to her back, pinning her with knees on her thighs and hands on her shoulders, my ass catching the breeze, when I was lifted off her by an arm around my waist. I yelped in surprise. The cavalry had arrived and Ranger had me dangling in mid-air.

Alicia leapt to her feet. She'd found a broken bottle lying conveniently next to her and was brandishing it at us. Hal got behind her and wrapped her in a Halosaurus hug while Tank, Ram and Lester spread out to secure the area. Alicia, still shouting obscenities and wriggling like a wildcat, got her arm loose and slashed upwards, cutting Hal's shoulder before he locked her arm down.

I was trying to pull the dress down past my hips, gasping as my bruised ribs made themselves felt again. Ranger lowered me so I could stand on the sand.

"Will you be okay if I let go of you?" he asked, holding me steady with hands on my hips.

"Yeah. But I've lost my shoes. And my phone." I was looking around expectantly, like they'd pop up out of the sand and wave to me. The adrenaline spike was wearing off and I started to shake and feel a little nauseous.

Ranger picked me up, carried me to a bench and put my head between my knees. The close view of my underwear was a little scary so I shut my eyes. Now I wasn't wrestling, the pain in my side was interfering with my breathing.

"Babe." Ranger was squatting next to me, his hand on my back. "You okay?"

I cracked my eyes open. "Alicia threw a bottle at me and it hit my ribs. I think I'm just bruised and nauseous from the excitement."

Ranger's eyes sharpened. "Sit up, babe, give your lungs room to expand. I need to check nothing is broken."

I sat up and Ranger made me take slow breaths while he felt carefully around my ribs until he was satisfied there was no serious damage. The surety of his touch was soothing and I started to breathe easier. He glanced up at the scene of activity and I followed his eyes. The cops had just arrived and Tank was giving Ranger come hither looks.

"I need to go talk to them. I'm going to try to swing it so you don't need to give a statement now. I'll send Lester over to get you out of here while we clean up."

"Okay." I'd be glad to get out of the glare and heat. Ranger stood and looked down at me.

"Proud of you, babe. Your instincts were right, and you did the job." I squished the urge to grin like a goofball. He cradled my face in one big hand and ran his thumb slowly back and forth over my mouth. The sensation didn't help the rhythm of my breathing.

"And you made her crazy." He dropped the glasses back on his nose as he headed toward the cops.

I leaned back on the bench and took a deep breath, holding my side and wincing a little. Paco appeared with Andy in his arms and dropped next to me. The little guy was sobbing and Paco was trying to comfort him. "Andy, this is my friend Stephanie," he tried, hoping distraction would help. "Do you want to say hi to Steph?"

"No! I want Mommy!" Andy wailed. "Why is the policeman holding Mommy?" Poor little guy. Paco held him close, kissing his hair and making little shushing sounds.

I glanced back at the scene of the action and noticed Alicia between two uniformed cops. It would have been hard not to notice Alicia, seeing as she was in a candy-stripe dress with a lot of caramel skin showing. She was cut finer than me, about four inches shorter, boyishly slim and even with her hair mussed and all disheveled and the skirt riding high, the dress looked great on her.

I caught Alicia's eye and she shot me a one-hundred proof death glare that hit like a slap. Her face turned ugly as she took in Paco and me with Andy on the bench. She spat on the ground, mouthed whore at me, then lifted her handcuffed hands to her neck and slashed her thumb symbolically across her neck.

Okay. I knew it wasn't a serious threat but it was seriously creepy.

Instinctively, I glanced over at Ranger but he and Tank were in conference with a plainclothes cop. Hal was pressing a bandage to his shoulder, standing within reach of Ranger with Ram and Lester. The cop turned just then to look at me and his face broke into a huge smile. He said something to Ranger, laughing, then waved to Paco, indicating he should join them.

Ranger gave Lester a nod and he sauntered over to collect me, his smile teasing as he radiated charm. "_Monada*_, you are the bomb!" He attempted one of those complicated handshakes with me but my fingers got tangled up and Lester shook his head in mock disgust.

"You know, the mud-wrestling thing you did at the Snake Pit that one time, that was good but, man, this was hot! If you ever want to try it with food, I'm your man; I'm good with clean-up." He winked at me and I felt a flush of embarassment.

"You heard about the Snake Pit?"

"Everybody's heard about the Snake Pit. You're a legend."

He had my shoes dangling from one hand and he dug my phone out of his pocket and handed them over. "Come on, _monada._ Ranger said we could go. They'll call you to make a statement on Monday. I have to take you to get checked out and then we high-tail it back to Trenton."

"I don't need a doctor!"

"Steph_,_ he's the boss. And he's right. You could have damage and not feel it. Rangeman is liable if you're injured on the job.'

I sighed. "Why did the cop smile at me like that? What was he saying?"

Lester chuckled. "Ranger told him you're the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, and the cop said that explained everything."

My blood rose and I shot a death glare at Ranger's back. That damned nickname was going to follow me around forever - and it wasn't even my fault! It was my Grandma Mazur's gun that set off all the ammunition in Stiva's cellar and burned down the funeral home.

Lester led the way back to where we'd left the cars with his arm around my waist to support me, shooting concerned glances in my direction. I couldn't shake off the nausea and light-headedness. He steered me into a juice bar with AC. He chose a booth in a quiet corner and ordered a jug of orange juice.

"You're dehydrated. You have to replenish your fluids and tissue salts."

I had joked about heat stroke to Ranger, but the glare and the heat and then being socked in the ribs had really knocked me around. "I can't drink this much liquid," I complained. "Can't we just go? I'll be fine when we get to the car."

"There's no hurry. Take your time. When you're done we'll go to the clinic." I shot him a sour look but Lester wasn't budging. Ranger had ordered him to get me medical attention and that was that. Ranger's potential wrath is a great motivator with his men. I sighed, adjusted my dress, slouched into the deep, padded booth with my head resting on the back and started drinking.

I was feeling better by the time I finished up the last slurp and then I had to visit the little girls' room. Lester watched me slide out of the booth and adjust my outfit for modesty.

Lester's fingertip trailed between the satin ribbon on my back. "Need some help? I'm pretty good at adjusting corsetry."

I smacked his hand away and he waggled his eyebrows at me. I rolled my eyes but had a hard time squashing down the smile.

The trip back was slow. First, Lester took me to the clinic in Mantoloking, where we waited an hour before I was seen to and then hung around another hour for the x-ray and monitoring results to get the all clear. It was well after eight by the time we were headed for home and we had to keep stopping for toilet breaks because Lester wouldn't stop watering me.

"You have to maintain your fluids, Steph. You'll recover faster."

"I'm not thirsty, I'm hungry. If you want to make me feel better, get me a sugar fix. I need a candy bar, a TastyKake, a donut. Yeah, definitely a donut." Lester threw me a speculative look and five minutes later he pulled into a Dunkin' Donuts. He came out with a bag full.

"You owe me, _monada_," he said, with a smile that made me tingle a little.

"Let me see what you got first." Lester took one for himself and then handed me the bag. I peered in. Two Chocolate Frosted and Two Boston Cremes.

"You can't say anything to Ranger about this," he requested, looking at me sideways for confirmation.

"No problemo!" I mumbled through my mouthful of sugary bliss. "I won't say a word."

oOoOoOo

* monada _[sweet babe]_

_* _Cadela! Meretriz desavergonhada! _[Bitch! Shameless whore]_

oOoOoOo

_Reviews, comments and raspberries always appreciated. Suggestions welcome, too._


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks again for the comments and reviews. I'm particularly grateful for the suggestions and critiques - and I've gone back to incorporate some of those suggestions where they have resonated with what I want to do with the story. So, thank you!_

_If you find errors in the copy, typos or inconsistencies, please point them out to me. I welcome suggestions and criticisms._

oOoOoOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 5: Steamed Up**

Lester and I swung into Rangeman around nine thirty, following Tank's Explorer into the garage just before the security gate swung shut. There was a chorus of slamming car doors as we joined Tank, Hal and Ram and headed to the elevator where Ranger was waiting, leaning against the back wall, his face like granite. He watched me wordlessly as I stepped in last and the doors closed.

I had taken off my shoes during the drive so I had lost four inches and the five towering, muscular men made the small space feel even smaller. All Ranger's men come from the same cookie cutter: big, dangerous, scary-looking guys who can look after themselves. Many have military training, others have walked on the dark side of the law and most are _very_ fine specimens of manhood – much like Ranger himself. He expects strong self-discipline, unquestioning loyalty and respect for the chain of command. The ability to walk and talk at the same time is optional.

"Did you two walk all the way back?" Tank ribbed. Tank is 6'6" of solid, black muscle and the guy who watches Ranger's back. His antennae had picked up on Ranger's mood and he was trying to defuse it.

"It's Lester's fault. He stopped to water me every two miles."

"Oh, you don't have to pretend, _monad_– er..._chica_," Lester flashed a glance at Ranger, whose eyes narrowed at that slip of the tongue, then moved to snake his arm around my shoulders with one of his rakish smiles. "Steph wanted to take the scenic route. Beautiful here can't get enough of my company."

I elbowed him in the ribs but I was smiling.

Lester feigned injury. "Oooh, playful little minx."

"Santos, you spent too much time in the sun, man," Ram teased and deep, chesty laughs rumbled around me.

I was standing next to Hal and I craned my neck to look up at him, noticing the smears of blood on his neck and left arm. Hal is a contradiction. He's an art geek who looks like a mid-West farmboy who spent his off-hours lifting a tractor above his head and sprinting over the prairie; a smart, bashful, chivalrous, giant sweetie who is built like a stegosaurus. We'd had a rocky start. The first time I met Hal I stunned him with his own stun gun in the Rangeman garage when he tried to enforce Ranger's orders not to let me leave the building. The guys had given him hell about getting stunned by a girl, but we were good now.

"Is the shoulder okay?" I asked him. There was a thick bandage showing under his t-shirt although he seemed unaffected by it. It had looked pretty bad back at the beach but either it wasn't that serious or the pain hadn't yet made its way through Hal's vast nervous system to his brain.

"Yeah," Hal mumbled.

All righty. Glad he didn't load me down with details. "What about you?" he asked me and flushed red. Hal has trouble talking to girls.

"I'm fine. The doctor said I'm just bruised. It twinges a bit if I breathe too deep." My full bladder was a bigger impediment than my ribs.

The doors opened on the control room floor and we all poured out. The guys scattered, focused on grabbing their stuff to take off for home. Ranger headed directly to his office to check on anything that had come up while he was gone and ignored me completely. Still sulking. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back because I'm mature like that.

I dropped my shoes near the elevator and padded toward the men's room in bare feet. When I'd worked short stints at Rangeman doing background computer searches, the guys had made me a little sign to stick on the men's room door when I needed to go. More often I went up to Ranger's apartment so I could sneak a peanut butter sandwich while I was there. My bladder couldn't wait for the elevator, and with only Ranger, Tank and the four men on the floor for the evening shift, I figured I was safe. I rapped loudly on the door and called out that the room was taken for the next five minutes. I came out feeling ten pints lighter.

"Hey, Steph!" Woody was at the monitors. "Paco Lopez is on the phone. Wants to talk to you. And your cell rang while you were in the bathroom."

I took the call at Woody's desk. "Hi Paco! How's Andy? How did it go after I left?"

Paco wanted to check I was okay. The little guy had fallen asleep from exhaustion but Paco was hopeful he'd settle down after the emotional trauma. Apparently, Ranger had handed a stack of intel to the police and they'd started to run it down. They found evidence Alicia had intended to take Andy and run, and she was also up for assault against me and Hal, plus public nuisance and recklessly endangering lives on the boardwalk, so she was up to her well-groomed eyebrows in legal troubles.

I felt an odd sense of relief about that. I hoped that by the time she got bail the urge to slash my throat with her manicured thumbnail would have passed, although with her connections and money she'd probably get home before I did.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks." Paco ended. "It got a little friendlier that I expected but it worked." I joined him in a conspiratorial chuckle. Paco had been a lot of fun and we'd established a friendly rapport but now I was feeling a little uncomfortable about the touchie-feelie I'd initiated. What the hell had I been thinking? Actually, I knew what I'd been thinking. I'd been thinking I wanted to get back at Ranger with the nearest tools at hand.

I hung up and picked up my cell to check the missed call and saw my mother's number. I checked my voicemail.

"Stephanie? Hello? This is your mother. Why aren't you answering your phone? Were you really in a wrestling competition with a team of prostitutes on the beach? Mrs Bronski just called and told me her daughter was at Point Pleasant with Larry and the baby and they said that a gang of men all dressed in black were offering prize money to women to wrestle in their underwear and you won. And they offered you a contract to go on the wrestling circuit. I don't understand what you were thinking. What will Joseph think? If you got a regular job you wouldn't need to resort to these kinds of things to get money. Irene Cacciatori's daughter was just promoted to manager of the staff canteen at the button factory. She says they're looking to hire. I want you to call me as soon as you get this message."

I snapped the phone closed and whimpered. Just my luck that Daniella Bronski was on the boardwalk today. It would be all over the 'burg by now, one more outrageous story about Helen Plum's crazy younger daughter. I hit the speed dial for my parents but the line was engaged. The Burg grapevine must be running my mother's phone hot. I'd call her tomorrow; I still had to go home and face Morelli.

I sat with Woody in front of the security monitors for a while, procrastinating. My feet hurt, I was dog tired and the idea of going ten rounds with Joe was depressing. Turning up at his house dressed as Madame Lollipop wasn't going to fly so I needed to change first. Better go home so I could shower to get rid of the sand and sweat as well.

I realized I didn't have my keys. I'd taken my phone with me to the beach but I'd left my pocketbook upstairs on Ranger's couch so I wouldn't have to lug it around in the heat all day. Every second nickel and dime hood could break into my apartment any time they wanted, and Ranger either walked through walls or slipped in under the door like smoke, but I had to get through my door the old-fashioned way. I sighed and pushed myself out the chair, pulling the skirt down to cover my ass.

"I'm outta here. G'night Woody."

"Heading home?"

"More or less." I headed to Ranger's office, figuring I could borrow his key fob for the elevator, and maybe exchange a few well-chosen words, but the man of mystery was gone. I frowned at his locked office door.

He hadn't debriefed me about the job. He hadn't asked about my ribs or the trip to the clinic. He hadn't said goodnight or babe'd me or anything. It was unfriendly and bordered on unprofessional. Hell, it was just plain rude! My jaw started to protrude and my eyes went slitty. When he'd cut off our argument this morning I'd warned him he hadn't heard the end of it but it seemed he wasn't taking me seriously. I felt a head of steam building. I wasn't going to put up with this crap.

I was already up for a shouting match with Morelli so I could fit another one in for the practice. I spun on my heels to face Tank's office. He was just putting his lights out.

"Can you fob me up to seven? I have to pick up my keys; I left them in Ranger's apartment when I changed this morning."

Tank bobbed his head. Now he wasn't talking either. What is it with these guys? All of them needed a lesson in how to communicate and I'd be bringing _that_ up with Ranger, too. Tank walked me to the elevator, swiped the fob across the security pad and pressed the button for me before backing out of the cab. Thirty seconds later I stepped onto the quiet, marble foyer. I squared my shoulders, did some mental knuckle-cracking and marched into his apartment.

oOoOoOo

_A/N: I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think. I appreciate all feedback, even if you just write: "I hate it!"_


	6. Chapter 6

Characters belong to **Janet Evanovich** and are used without permission. Story line is mine.

I read _Finger-lickin' Fifteen_ just as I was finishing off this chapter so from here on, FLF spoilers may occur.

Warnings: First smut, but pretty mild. Language.

oOoOoOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 6: The Face Off**

I shut the door, took three steps into the spacious foyer and froze in my tracks. Ranger was about ten feet in front of me, halfway between the doors to kitchen and bedroom, phone in one hand and the t-shirt he'd been wearing in the other. The hand with the phone dropped from his ear as he turned toward the door. He was barefoot, beltless and his pants were unbuttoned, hanging loose and low on his hips. He must have been on his way to the bathroom when the phone call pulled him out again.

I couldn't remember why I came up. The unexpected urge to lick every inch of silky, caramel skin I could see had short-circuited my brain. One look at Ranger shirtless and with his pants undone and my righteous wrath evaporated, gone, kaflooie, _adios_ and _hasta la vista,_ baby.

I regrouped my neurons. Concentrate, Stephanie. Keep your eyes _off_ the body. No, _don't follow his pleasure trail! _I swallowed hard and blinked a few times, becoming aware that he was waiting for me to say something.

"Hi," I began, my voice wobbly and not at all the woman in charge tone I'd aimed for. I cleared my throat.

"Is there a problem?" His face was composed.

"No."

"I was heading to the shower. You okay?"

"Yeah." My head was wagging up and down like one of those dashboard bobblehead dolls. And, I'd become monosyllabic. So much for teaching him a lesson in communication.

"And?" Now there was a little curve to the corners of his mouth; tongue-tied Stephanie was amusing him.

"And...I just spoke to Paco. He says Andy is fine. Just thought you'd like to know."

Ranger's eyes sharpened and the tiny smile vanished. He crossed his arms over his chest, causing a whole bunch of muscles to ripple. My stomach fluttered and I shifted weight. Ranger swept assessing eyes over me, making me acutely aware that I was still in my candy-striped bordello number and the flutter in my belly turned to heat. For the luvva Pete! How does he do this to me?

"What are you doing here, Stephanie? You need something?"

"My clothes. And my pocketbook. My keys are in my pocketbook. I need my keys. I can't get into my apartment without them." _G'ah!_ I almost rolled my eyes at myself but managed to catch it.

Ranger's lips twitched and he gave a barely perceptible nod, acknowledging that I would, indeed, need my keys.

This was so lame! The sight of his pectorals had turned me into a drooling moron. I'd just get my stuff, take the few ragged scraps of dignity I had left and get the hell out before I humiliated myself any further. I could pick up our fight some other time, after I'd had a long, hard session with the shower massager.

I knew where my pocketbook was but to get it I'd have to walk right through his magnetic field into his bedroom. I couldn't risk melting into a puddle of lust by getting that close. I didn't move. He didn't move. I tried to keep my eyes above his neck, chewing my lip. He looked me slowly up and down, at his ease. He was waiting me out. Damn!

The situation was bordering on the absurd. I gave myself a mental shakedown and dug deep to find some indignation. I took a deep breath and locked onto his eyes, using sheer force of will to stop mine from meandering south.

"Since when do I have to _need_ something to come up here? As I recall, you told me I was welcome any time. But since you asked, what I _need_ is for you to explain what the hell is going on." Yes! Finally, I'd located my Jersey Girl tough. I'd even managed to get some heat and volume into my tone.

I felt rather than saw the increase in his tension level. "What do you think is going on, Stephanie?" His face was unreadable.

"Don't mess me around, Ranger. You're acting like a jerk."

"Really."

"Yes, really!" Watching Ranger maintain his zen calm was infuriating. He said he'd fight with me later, so why the fuck wasn't he fighting instead of standing there, tempting me like some luscious Cuban sex god? I cranked my gauge to full steam, hands on hips and jaw forward.

"You know what your problem is?"

"Why don't you tell me?" His voice remained deep, soft, controlled.

"You're a self-centered, emotionless, uncommunicative _dick_ who can't deal with criticism. You _complicate_ my life and _mess_ with my emotions and _fuck_ with my head and you don't give a damn about what you're doing; but when I _call _you on it, you get all _pissed off. _This is not my fault. It's _your_ fault."

While I ranted, Ranger was the eye of the storm, composed, unmoving, muscles at rest. In my experience, Ranger is calmest when he is at his most dangerous. The angrier he gets, the more he stills. Now, I could feel vibrations of anger bouncing off the walls. The static was probably short-circuiting half of Trenton. A little thrill of something between fear and satisfaction shivered its way up my back at the knowledge that I'd successfully pushed his button.

His eyes dilated to hard, black marbles as I watched but his voice remained low and steady. "I complicate _your_ life, and mess with _your _emotions, and fuck with _your_ head?"

"Yes! And you never talk to me! I don't know what the fuck is going on!" I was letting out my inner Italian now, yelling and waving my arms around.

"You take me into the alley and kiss me until I can't think and then you tell me Morelli's a good man. You track my car, you have surveillance on my apartment, you know what I'm doing night and day, you touch me like you _own_ me but you don't do relationships. I don't know where you are, or who you are, I don't see you for weeks and then you appear in my bedroom in the middle of the night and I can't tell whether I'm still dreaming or – ."

Whoa, Stephanie. No need to give away the farm. My dreams are my business. I took a big breath and dropped my voice.

"You play me like a fish at the end of your line, Ranger. You reel me in and let me out and when you get bored you throw me back. Plenty of fish in the sea, right? Well, I've had it. I thought we were friends but you sure haven't been acting like one. You've behaved like an arrogant son of a bitch and you owe me an apology."

I crossed my arms and rested my case. There was a long silence as Ranger stared at me and the tattoo of my heartbeat accelerated.

Ranger unraveled his arms, dropped the t-shirt casually on the floor. "I haven't been acting like a friend?"

As I watched, Ranger's muscles transformed from total ease to predatory readiness. His face became all hard angles, his eyes glittered, alert, his mouth lifted into a feral smile. He was menacing, and dangerous, and focused. On me. Prey.

_Oh, crap. _I had roused the eye of the tiger. He looked like he was gonna eat me, and not in a good way. Involuntarily, I backed up and a small stab of fear deflated some of my bravado.

Ranger stalked me across the hall, put his phone on the side table and backed me against the wall. He book-ended me, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of my shoulders, and stepped in close. I wasn't going anywhere. The hot anger rolling off him made my vision shimmer.

"I should apologize for not acting like a friend? How friendly do you want me to get, babe?" His voice was soft and scary, the voice that made strong men buckle.

I swallowed hard, staring directly into black eyes. My voice was small when I finally found it. "What is your problem with me, Ranger?"

"_You_ are my fucking problem, Stephanie! You make me fucking crazy!" He blew out air and dropped his head, shaking it as he struggled to remain calm. He lifted his eyes again to pin me to the wall. "What the _fuck_ was that about today?"

A sudden thrill shot through me. I'd succeeded in goading him into responding, but now what? What in hell was he talking about? I stared back into furious eyes, trying to figure it out while a small splinter of my mind processed the knowledge that Ranger was showing emotion. A lot of emotion.

"Today? You're...pissed off about Paco?" That seemed so ridiculous that in other circumstances I would have laughed but this wasn't a laughing situation. It was a wet your pants situation.

Ranger growled in the back of his throat. "Your little mind-fuck with me today was an interesting distraction but no, 'Paco' isn't my problem. I don't give a shit about Lopez."

Yes, he did. I knew it even if he didn't. A hint of smugness that the game I'd played had got to him must have shown in my face because Ranger's jaw tightened and he leaned in a little more. There was nowhere for me to go. I pressed my back hard into the wall.

"Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. That's what you think of me?"

My mouth dropped open. For a moment I was speechless but nothing can keep me speechless for long. "That's what's got up your ass? This is about your _ego_? You self-centered son of a bitch! Fuck you, Ranger!"

Ranger fisted both hands and punched the wall on either side of me, denting the dry wall and making me jump.

I was shaking with my own fury and my heart pounded erratically. I was confident Ranger wouldn't hurt me but we were on unknown territory. I had never seen him expose himself like this and the realization of how close he was to losing that tightly held control sharpened all my senses.

We stared at each other for a while in silence, both breathing hard. He was so close I could feel his breath on my face and the heat coming off his body. I was surrounded by his scent, the musky mix of healthy, male sweat and Bulgari that was so uniquely his, aware of the sheen of sweat on his skin. It felt erotic. God help me.

"You think I used you for hit and run sex?" he asked, finally, his voice quiet and steady.

Ranger had joked once that he would ruin me for all other men. At least, I'd thought it was a joke until our night together took me through a personal event horizon that redefined my understanding of making love. With him, I had experienced an intensity I had never imagined. But that night had been his pay-off on a deal for his help in a take down. He called in the debt and the next morning he walked out as soon as he opened his eyes. As far as he was concerned our business transaction was concluded and he wanted no complications. To make sure I understood, he advised me to go back to Morelli.

I met his eyes defiantly. "Yes. You had a little itch, you scratched it and then you were done. I paid up; you moved on."

Ranger stilled. He hadn't been moving much before but now he wasn't breathing either. His eyes pierced mine and I had to look away. For the longest time I couldn't feel the flow of his breath on my face and I wondered how long he could hold it. Finally, a long exhalation tickled my skin.

"Babe." His zen composure was back. I looked up and his eyes were soft, warm, beautiful, Cuban brown.

"You have the key to my apartment. You are free to come and go any time, night or day. You use my cars. You wear my clothes, you sleep in my bed, shower in my bathroom. You keep cosmetics under the sink, spare clothes in my closet and peanut butter in my fridge. You call me, and I'm there. No questions asked and no price. Can you explain to me in what way am I not behaving as a friend, babe?"

He had pulled the rug from under me. My anger drained away.

It was all true and yet it was a lie and I felt like crying. What could I say to him? _Because I want more and you don't. Because you won't let me in. Because, like the earth orbiting the sun, I'm stuck in your gravitational field. I can't get any closer and I can't escape, and I don't think I want to._ I didn't have the courage to say any of it. I would not risk losing the little of himself that he gave me.

"You poach," I said, my voice a whisper, but I knew that wasn't true. Ranger knew it, too.

He shook his head very slowly from side to side and the look in his eyes started a slow burn deep in my belly. "I have never taken you where you didn't want to go."

I bit my lip to stop its quiver. His eyes dared me to contradict him. I couldn't.

And then he lowered his head and warm breath tickled my ear as his teeth nipped my earlobe. His mouth slid down my neck to my shoulder and the slow burn in my belly spread north and south. He smelt so good, even after the whole day in the heat. The musky, intimate scent of him ignited old memories that made me dizzy with longing. It was so familiar. We'd reached this point many times before. Turning back required a willpower I didn't have.

"W-w-wait...h-h-hold on..." I managed, even as my neck angled to give him access.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, his breath raising goosebumps as he laid soft, wet kisses along my neck. He touched his tongue to the hollow at my shoulder, then kissed the spot, his mouth succulent. My eyes rolled back into my head and I sighed.

"It's always been easy to make me stop, babe." He licked one long, slow stroke back up to my ear and I shivered. "Salty," he breathed and dipped the tip of his tongue into my ear.

He pulled back when my breath hitched. "Just say you don't like it. Tell me you don't like it when I touch you and I'll stop."

He encircled my wrists with his hands and slid them up along the wall. I didn't resist. He pinned them above my head with one hand while the other trailed pleasure from one wrist along length of my arm, over my breast, his thumb rolling circles over the nipple, and then his hand continued down until he held me possessively under my ribs. My body trembled.

He moved in to murmur against my mouth. "Say you don't like it when I kiss you."

An open-mouthed kiss made me gasp and the tip of his tongue outlined my lips. I opened, wanting more, but he withheld it. Then, a soft, fleeting kiss. Another. One more. Teasing.

Ranger pulled back, watching me. I was drunk on sensation. I stared at his mouth, wanting it back on mine so badly I could taste it.

"Tell me you don't want me, Steph. I'll stop."

It was hard to breathe.

"Do you want to say any of those things, babe?"

No. Absolutely, unequivocally, no, I did not want to say any of those things. If I said any one of those things it would be a big, fat lie and we both knew it. Besides, I couldn't talk. My brain had checked out and left my body in charge.

"What do you want, babe?"

Well, hell, what do you think?

My wrists still trapped by his hand above my head, I strained forward into him and kissed him, which is a polite way of saying I went at him like Lula at an all-you-can-eat, fried chicken special.

Ranger tugged me away from the wall to pull me in and I molded to him. I wound my arms and legs around him, kissing, licking, biting, tasting. I rubbed my face into his chest, raked my hands over the muscular contours of his back, his shoulders, his arms, his belly, his ass. I breathed him in, drank at his mouth, knotted my fingers in his hair. I couldn't seem to get enough Ranger.

He took possession, hungry and knowing, waking shivering heat wherever his hands and mouth touched me. The candy-stripe skirt had ridden up and he lifted me so I could lock my legs around his hips. Cupping my buttocks, he ground hard against me, his tongue in my mouth moving in rhythm with our hips.

I was seconds from dragging him down to the floor when his phone rang with an unfamiliar chirrup. Once. Twice. He pulled his mouth away from mine, pressed me back into the wall, his hips still moving against me, to pick up the phone with one hand.

"Manoso."

His breath was as ragged as mine and I stared at him, not comprehending. He had answered the phone? I watched his mouth, not hearing his words. He concentrated on the call, easing my legs loose from around his hips until I was standing, his free arm and his body holding me up.

I looked around for my clothes and was surprised to find I was in them. More or less. The skirt was up high around my waist, the straps of the dress draped at my elbows with the back lacing loose. The cups were dragged down, revealing my breasts with nipples hard and swollen from his mouth. I pulled the dress into place as well as I could, pushed the straps up over my shoulders. Then I leaned back against the wall so I could slide to the floor because my legs weren't doing their job.

I sat with my knees up, feeling my own warm, slippery wetness between my thighs and the aching throb in my core. My heart pounded so hard it felt uncomfortable. I looked up at Ranger, the front of his pants stained wet from grinding against me. He was as aroused as I, the head of his erection exposed above the band of his unbelted cargos. The sight of him hard was more than I could take. I shut my eyes, head in my hands.

"The team's in place. ETA thirty-five minutes." Ranger disconnected and dragged in a ragged breath.

"Babe." I looked up into eyes that were black and wild, his breath still too fast. "I've gotta go."

I nodded and gnawed my lips. Coherence was a long, long way away.

Ranger went into his bedroom and three minutes later he was ready to go, fully outfitted in combat gear. He squatted and lifted my chin to kiss me lingeringly, his mouth so soft and tender, breath calm now, and then he was gone.

oOoOoOo

_Thanks __**JannyB**__ for catching a typo that had been left behind and changed the meaning of a whole sentence. Fixed now! _

_Thanks __**Dee**__ for pointing out some colloquialisms that don't work and for catching some inconsistencies in the story and typos and some good suggestions - all fixed_

_Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think._


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you for all the reviews and PMs. It is such a great motivator to know people are reading and it's great to hear your responses, what you think it all means and where it's going to go. _

_Many, many thanks to __**Dee**__ for her pernickety eye and great feedback and suggestions. _

_Big warning: Babes won't like this chapter, but keep the faith._

oOoOoOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 7 : Free Advice**

I got myself home on autopilot while a chorus played over and over in my head in a sing-song: _stupid! stupid! stupid! stupid!_

I'd practically taken out a billboard shouting, _I want Ranger._ If Ranger had had any doubts about it, he didn't now. Knowing Ranger wanted nothing more than casual sex, no emotional ties, no commitment, knowing that another one night stand would change everything, knowing that I could have fucked up everything with Morelli; knowing all that...total moron was more like it.

And a tad humiliating. I mean, I'd thrown myself at men before but usually that was prior to handcuffing them and dragging their asses into Trenton PD.

Angry was also high on the list. Ranger knew what he was doing. In the same calculating way he planned everything, from a simple takedown to a major, multi-team operation, he had deliberately demonstrated for us both that he could have me any time he wanted. Having won his point, he had walked away. I'd been sucker punched.

Time to face up. I had never said no to Ranger. I'd been a willing participant in every kiss, every flirtatious encounter. Every time he'd crossed the line I'd crossed it with him, even urged him on. When guilt about Morelli struck, I relied on Ranger to back down and he always did. He exerted constant pressure but he pushed only so far and no further. Ranger was a class act and I hated him for it.

And you know what the worst thing was? I was still really, really turned on. I could still feel Ranger's hands and mouth on me. I could smell him on my skin and taste him on my mouth. The throbbing ache in my groin just wouldn't go away.

I dropped my pocketbook and shoes on the floor, locked all three locks, shoved down the floor bolt, pulled the chain into place and wilted against the wall. My security measures never made any difference to miscreants but I was locking myself in. There was no way I was going to Morelli's. I would rather have danced the hula naked in the middle of Giovichinni's Market than face Morelli. Even if I could face up, working my way through the inevitable shouting match so we could get to the deep and meaningful stuff would be beyond me for a while. That is, if I ever regained normal cognitive function.

I headed straight to the shower. For a flickering moment I considered the alternate uses of my super-duper shower massager but it couldn't make a dent in easing my condition. I stood under the hot water, letting it sluice over me until it ran out, and then I stood under the cold water until I was an interesting shade of blue.

When I was properly pruned, I shivered into some flannel jammies in spite of the unseasonable heat and fell into bed, pulling the covers right over my head. Grandma Mazur used to say when I was little that everything looked better after a good night's sleep and I was going to test the theory. I curled into a ball to warm up and tried to relax.

When the shivers from the cold shower finally stopped, the erotic flashbacks began. The heat of him, hard muscle under firm skin, the feel of his mouth, his taste on my tongue, his breath on my skin, the deep, guttural sounds in my ear, the trails of primal electric heat wherever he touched me. I was going to need another cold shower. I tossed off my bedding, almost feverish with Ranger-induced heat. Damn, he was good! And wasn't I a sick puppy, to fantasize about a man who'd messed me around like that?

I was sweating like a pig. Without bothering to turn on a light, I stripped out of my flannel jammies, pulled out a t-shirt and collapsed back on top of the bed, taking a deep, frustrated breath.

Immediately, a lingering scent of Bulgari and musky Ranger surrounded me, an exquisite torture. Shit! This couldn't be my imagination. I sniffed my pillow carefully, raised my arm to my face and sniffed that, too. Holy Toledo! It was one of his freakin' t-shirts! I stripped it off, turned on a light to change into a tank and boxers and stormed into the kitchen.

I stuck my head in the freezer, taking a moment to select between two Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavors. Chocolate Fudge Brownie or Cherry Garcia? Definitely Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Perched on my counter top, I watched Rex on his nightly wheel run and ate my way through the tub of ice cream. His little pink feet were blurred with his speed. Hamsters are really conscientious about their fitness. I threw out the empty Ben & Jerry's tub, ate two Butterscotch Krimpets and drank a beer. Rex was still at it. How far could a hamster run? I had a champion marathon hamster on my hands. I bet he could run all the way to New York on an average night but then he'd probably miss his soup can. Probably, he didn't want to go all the way to New York.

Ranger said he had never taken me where I didn't want to go. He was so sure. Even though I was with Morelli, Ranger knew. Brooding about how far I wanted Ranger to take me was a bad idea so instead I ate most of a Peanut Butter Kandy Kake and went back to bed. An hour later I was back in the shower having a fling with my shower massager. When the hot water ran out again, sleep finally beckoned.

My cell phone woke me at just about eight with Morelli's theme song, inflicting an instant stab to the heart. I buried my head under my pillow, groaning with the weight of guilt. I couldn't talk to him. My voice would give me away or, if it didn't, lightning would strike me dead. I waited for the phone to stop ringing then dived across the bed to grab it. He'd call on the land line next. As soon as the phone in my kitchen rang, I hit speed dial. It went straight to Morelli's voicemail, as I knew it would.

"Hey Joe. I'm sorry I couldn't get there last night. It was really late and I had some heat stroke so I just hit the sack. Everything's fine, but I've got a whole bunch of things to do today so I won't drop by. I'll call you. Don't worry, okay?" I disconnected and dragged in a breath. Guilt was a boulder in my chest.

I checked the message he'd left for me. "I'm assuming you got home okay because I haven't had any calls telling me otherwise. I figured you didn't want to get into an argument last night. You're probably right. We were both still too mad to deal with it. But we're going to talk about this, Cupcake. It's time, and we're not going to avoid this. Call me."

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and fell back on the bed. Behind my lids, Morelli's chocolate brown eyes stared at me accusingly, limpid as a puppy's. I whimpered. He wanted to talk about it. What the hell was wrong with our usual method of avoidance and denial? Morelli would turn up at my door sooner rather than later. Maybe I wouldn't answer the door. Maybe I'd leave town. It was cowardly but I didn't know what I wanted to say to him, or how I could ever bring myself to meet his eyes. Morelli deserved better than I was dishing out and I deserved a tar-and-feathering.

Rather than reviewing my list of sins against Joseph Morelli, I dragged my body out of bed and into the shower. I threw on shorts and t-shirt, slipped my feet into sandals and did make-up. It was going to take at least three coats of mascara to give me the courage to face the world today.

I padded into the kitchen to check on Rex. He was sleeping the sleep of the righteous, tucked tight in his soup can. I dropped a couple of Cheerios into his bowl, added some leftover crumbs from last night's Peanut Butter Kandy Kake and a grape and gave him fresh water. A tap on his tank got no response; he was out for the count. I grabbed my pocketbook, left Rex in charge and hit the road.

oOo

My parents live in the working class Chambersburg section of Trenton, where neighbors all know each other and nobody's business is private. Yards are small, cars are American and windows are clean. Their house is one half of a two-storey duplex, the front door opening to a small hall, the living room, dining room and eat-in kitchen following each other like train carriages, with three bedrooms and one bath upstairs. My Grandma Mazur had moved into my sister Valerie's old room a few years ago after Grandpa Mazur joined the great card game at St Peters.

I pulled up in front of the house and wrestled with the parking brake for a minute before giving up on it. I put the car into neutral with the wheels turned to the curb, figuring my parents' street didn't have enough of a slope to start the car rolling, and let myself into the house.

"Hi Dad." He was in his favorite chair with his head in the paper, a cup of coffee and a plate of donuts on the table in front of him. Every Sunday morning my mother picked up donuts on her way home from early mass, and my father ate them. It was a religious thing. My dad grunted a greeting and I continued toward the kitchen, following the smell of coffee.

"Hey, pumpkin," he called. I stopped to look back at him. "Be careful in there. Your mother's ironing."

I sighed. Some people deal with stress by yelling or driving fast cars or – my preferred stress outlet - embarking on an all-sugar-and-fats diet. My mother irons and tipples.

Mom wore the long-suffering expression that had become almost permanent since I started working for Vinnie. There were piles of stiffly starched and professionally folded laundry on the counters and my mother was viciously ironing a hand towel with a nap that wouldn't lie down.

"Hi Mom. How was mass this morning?" I was going for distraction.

"It wouldn't kill you to come one Sunday and hear for yourself. Have you had breakfast? I'll make you some eggs." She put down the iron and moved to the stove. A daughter needed feeding.

Grandma patted the chair next to her and I sat, selecting a donut to keep me going until the eggs were done. Grandma was looking eager, hopeful she'd get an update from the horse's mouth. The rows of sausage curls across her scalp were bright scarlet instead of their usual grey, matching her lipstick and the stretchy red knit top with a plunging neckline that showcased a chicken neck and a white, flabby decollete. Grandma had been a beauty in her time but gravity had had its way and the results weren't pretty.

"Trying out a new color?"

"Yeah, Dolly at the Clip 'n Curl promised it won't fade like last time. There's a new man down at the club and he's a live one so I'm going to try being a scarlet woman. I'm looking to make a fast move on him before Doris Szuch corners the market."

My mother interrupted. "Your nose is sunburnt. You should wear sunscreen if you're going to be wrestling on the beach."

"I wasn't wrestling on the beach! I was assisting at an apprehension and it got a little physical." I was tweaking the truth but this was my mother so I was allowed.

"But you were in underwear, right?" Grandma wanted details. "Paula Machenko said you were in black leather underwear with one of those pointy bras. I told her probably she was wrong about the pointy bra because you didn't like them when Sally and I wore them when we sang with _The What_. But leather underwear sounds sexy. I wouldn't mind some leather underwear."

There was a choking sound behind me and I turned to catch my mother crossing herself. I swallowed my bite of donut and swigged coffee before answering. "No, I wasn't in my underwear and there was no leather. No one wears leather to the beach, it's too hot. It doesn't breathe."

"Joyce Barnhardt has a leather swimming costume. Florrie Nathan saw her when she was vacationing at the shore last year. It's made out of a whole bunch of leather straps that criss-cross all over her body. Even right under her doodah." _Ewww!_

My mother slammed my plate of eggs, hash browns and fried mushrooms on the table. "I forbid you to talk about Joyce's privates while we're eating. What is it with you and other people's privates? And Joyce Barnhardt is not a lady."

Joyce Barnhardt is pond slime, a man-eater with an unhealthy obsession with large, male dogs. She's also my nemesis. In kindergarten she stole cookies from my lunch box; in high school she distributed photos of me taken in the girl's locker room; and as an adult she did me a back-handed favor by riding my husband of two minutes on my dining room table. The acrimony accompanying my resultant divorce from Dickie Orr was a 'burg legend.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm just pointing out that leather is real versatile. The girls and I are going to wear leather for our calendar."

I stopped chewing and my mother and I both turned to Grandma. "What calendar?" I asked.

"We saw a movie at Betty Szajaks last week. _Calendar Girls. _It's about this group of older women who want to prove that they've still got it. So they make a calendar with pictures of themselves without any clothes on. Well, you know how there's not a lot of social options around here outside of Stiva's viewings. I was talking with the girls and we thought maybe we could rent a house at the beach and have swingers parties for seniors and we could raise the money by selling a nudie calendar. It would be perfect. We'd be advertising what we've got to offer at the same time, if you know what I mean. So, we're going to go for it."

My mother and I stared at Grandma, speechless. The forkful of egg that was half way to my mouth slid off and plopped onto the floor. You've got to hand it to Grandma. This scheme was a doozy. My mother walked over to the pantry, found her stash of scotch behind the flour canister and took a swig right from the bottle.

"There's twelve of us girls and I'm in charge of organizing the shoot. I've been researching on the internet for a photographer and I've got a short list I'm going to call. Paco Lopez is the best. His photos are really hot."

I shook my head. "Paco won't do it. He's a big-time fashion photographer. He shoots fashion and celebrity stuff. Besides he works out of New York. He won't come to Trenton."

Too late I realized I sounded far too familiar with Paco. I focused on my plate and hoped Grandma hadn't noticed. If I could save him from Grandma, I would.

"You never know. It might be good for his reputation, like a community service to help seniors. And Elaine Barkolowski's nephew has friends in the printing business. They offered us a deal so that's already taken care of."

My mother let out a strangled cry. "Fred Barkolowski's 'friends' are all in the Mob and the printing business is counterfeiting. You can't make a deal with the Mob to print your calendar! What am I saying? There will be no calendar!"

"Helen, you worry too much. We won't be completely naked, we'll be wearing leather to preserve our modesty. Elsie Farnsworth says her niece knows the perfect place to get what we need. It's called _Pleasure Treasures_ and we're going there tomorrow to see what we can find."

My mother fixed me with steely blue eyes. "You will _not_ allow your grandmother to go into a place called _Pleasure Treasures_ with Elsie Farnsworth or, so help me God, there will be no dessert for you, ever again. You will go with her tomorrow and find somewhere more appropriate for her to shop."

"Okay. I'll ask Lula for suggestions."

"No! Can't you just take her to Macy's?" The two of them started bickering about appropriate attire for elderly women so I took the last donut and answered my cell. It was Mary Lou Molnar, now Stankovic, my best friend since we were three.

"Steph, what are you doing for lunch? Lenny says I deserve a break and he's taking the kids out for the whole afternoon!"

"I'm in. We eating at your house?"

"Sure, but I'm not cooking. I want take out and alcohol."

"I'll stop off for fried chicken and dessert."

"And coleslaw."

"Okay, and coleslaw."

Mary Lou squealed and disconnected.

I helped my mother clean up in the kitchen and arranged to pick up Grandma and Elsie after lunch the next day to take them leather shopping. I'd stop off at the office first to get pointers from Lula. Her former life as a 'ho had been very educational.

oOo

Lenny was herding the three kids out the door as I pulled in to the curb. He waved to me, kissed Mary Lou goodbye, packed them into the car with enough sporting equipment to outfit an Olympic team and took off.

Mary Lou takes Jersey Girl to the ultimate degree. She's a few inches shorter than me, a few inches rounder, with a lot more boob and ass but solid. Her hair is high, her make up impeccable and her fashion sense is all Jersey.

She took one of the bags of goodies out of my hands and dragged me into her kitchen, her heels clacking on the tile. She dumped them onto the counter then gathered me into a squishy hug. We jigged up and down, giggling and squealing like school girls.

"My God, Steph! I've got the _whole afternoon_ to myself! What are we going to do? Do you want to shop? Do you want a pedicure? We could have avocado facials."

"How about we eat lunch first?"

"Sure. And Lenny said he'd bring dinner home!"

"He's a good man"

"I love that guy!"

Lenny had been Mary Lou's high school sweetheart. He was captain of the football team, good-looking as jocks go but a real knuckle-dragger. Made no difference to Mary Lou, she always appreciated his physical talents more than the cerebral ones. They married straight after high school graduation and Lenny had gone into his father's plumbing business.

I unpacked the food on the dining table while Mary Lou brought out plates, cutlery and wine glasses and poured us each a glass of white wine.

"Are we celebrating?"

"Sure we are. When was the last time we spent a girlie afternoon together?" We clinked glasses and giggled. Mary Lou chugged the wine, put down the glass and looked at me intently.

"So, tell me. What happened at the beach? Last version I heard, you got an offer from an S & M club to take over as their whip-mistress."

I rolled my eyes and clarified the rumors for her. We ate our chicken, fries and 'slaw, drank our wine and started on the dessert – an assortment of the finest cakes offered by Tasty Pastry. Mary Lou poured herself a third glass and topped up mine and we moved to the living room. We took an armchair each and draped over it, wine glass on one arm, plates full of cakes balanced on our stomachs.

I'm a cheap drunk. I had barely started my second glass of wine and I was feeling mellow. Mary Lou put her plate down on the coffee table and looked me over, a knowing look on her face.

"Okay. Time to spill. What's going on, Steph?" Mary Lou is almost as good at sneaky as I am; she'd softened me up, plied me with wine and was going for the kill.

"What? I'm good. It's just the wine."

Mary Lou shook her head. "Something's going on with you. I can tell. Are you fighting with Joe?"

"No! Well, not yet. We had some words over the phone but we're putting off the fight until later."

She shook her head. "No, you've gotta start from the top."

I thought about it. I love Mary Lou, and it would be a relief to tell someone. There was not another soul I could think of to confide in but my best friend is the biggest mouth in the 'burg so a certain understanding had to be reached.

"Lou, you have to swear that you won't tell a soul. I mean it!"

She nodded her head so hard it almost came off. "I promise! My lips are zipped!"

"Not good enough. You have to pinky swear."

Mary Lou's eyes got big and round. I was bringing out the big guns. Breaking a pinky-oath would mean the end of friendship as we knew it. She sucked in air.

"Okay. I'll pinky swear." She slid off her chair over to me and solemnly hooked her pinky around mine. We shook and she went back to her armchair.

I sat up straight and spilled my guts, from the deal I'd paid on after DeChooch right down to the moment Ranger walked out his door and left me sitting on the floor in his foyer on Saturday night. When I was done, Mary Lou stared at me like a zombie. I think her brain had slipped a gear trying to absorb it all and she couldn't kick-start it back into action.

"Oh my God, Steph, I need a scotch." She got herself one from her liquor cabinet and brought the bottle back to the end table next to her arm chair. "What's he like? Tell me Ranger in action is as good as he looks!"

"Lou!"

"Sorry, I had to ask. That man is so hot! So, what are you going to do?"

I shrugged.

"You can't talk to Joe! You can't make any decisions about Joe, not until you've worked out what you want do with Ranger."

_D'uh. _That was the whole problem. I already knew what I wanted to do with Ranger and it wasn't going to happen. "There's nothing to work out. Ranger is not an option. We're friends and that's it. That's all."

Mary Lou looked at me like I had two heads. "That's not all or you wouldn't be all tied up in knots about this. Okay, let's take it from a different direction. How about you and Joe? Do you love him?"

"Sure. And he loves me. Joe wants us to work out. He's committed. But...I don't know, Lou. We get along great for a while and then we start arguing about the same things again. We fight, we break up, we cool off, we get back together. It's an unhealthy pattern of behavior." Crap. Now I was quoting Ranger to Mary Lou.

"That's because you never actually talk. You fight, one of you storms off and you never work it out."

I squirmed uncomfortably.

"What about Ranger?" she asked.

"Ranger is allergic to commitment. He just wants sex."

"But you just said you're friends."

"Yeah. He wants a friends-with-benefits package."

Mary Lou finished off her scotch and watched me thoughtfully.

"And how do you feel about that?"

I blew out air. "I can't do it."

"You mean because you don't want to sleep around?"

"Yeah, there's that. And also, I sort of, you know, kinda love him, a little bit." That was the first time I'd ever said it out loud and hearing it scared me so much my heart started racing.

Mary Lou's eyebrows disappeared under her teased bangs, her mouth a big, round O and then her face crumpled up in sympathy. She threw herself off her chair to pull me into a tight hug.

"Oh, honey!" She pulled back to look at me, her face still a picture of sympathy. Then she sat back, her eyes narrowing, and her mouth slowly formed a tight little moue. It was an expression I knew well and it meant she wasn't going to pull any punches.

"What, Lou?"

"Okay. I'm going to go out on a limb here. You ready to hear it?"

"Hit me."

"You won't like it."

"I never do, but you're usually right."

Mary Lou breathed deep and returned to sit cross-legged in her armchair. She picked up a canoli, digging into the filling and licking it off her finger, delaying, then looked back up at me.

"I think you need to grow up, Steph. You've got a good man in Joe and you're messing him around because of an infatuation that you yourself say is going nowhere."

She waited for me to say something but I had nothing. She was right. I nodded and she went on.

"If you're sure Ranger isn't interested, then why are you holding on? You have a relationship with Joe. He loves you. You say you love him. Maybe you need to think about compromising on some things to make it work. You know, it's what grownups do. To make any relationship work you have to sit down and talk out your damned problems. You give a little, he gives a little and you try to meet each other's needs. Only kids think they can have everything they want, Steph."

Mary Lou had the good sense to leave it at that and we spent the rest of the afternoon trying to regain some of the fun and lightheartedness we'd started with. We had avocado facials and pedicures and I left just before Lenny was due back with the boys.

I went straight home, dumped my stuff and checked on Rex. He'd had his beauty sleep and he shuffled out of his wood shavings when I tapped the tank, waiting expectantly for me to fill his food dish. I found a baby carrot and added some hamster pellets. He'd had too much junk food in the last few days so I was putting him on a health diet.

Of course, I'd had too much junk food in the last few days as well. My food pyramid rested firmly on a foundation of sugar and trans fats, just like a ten-year-old's. Maybe Mary Lou was right and I needed to grow up.

It was too depressing to think about so I got the Cherry Garcia out of the freezer, put on _ET _as a change from _Ghostbusters_ or _Indiana Jones_ and collapsed on my couch.

I love _ET_. I love how Elliot feels what ET is feeling. I love that, even though they are so different, they become best friends. And I love how Elliot helps ET to go home even though he knows he can't go with him. They love each other but they know they belong in different worlds. It always makes me cry. When the movie was over, I took a beer out to the fire escape to catch the late breeze.

Near the end of _ET_ there's a great scene where the kids are on their bikes, evading the whole police force and half the FBI. They're trying to figure out how to get ET to where the spaceship is going to rendezvous and one of Elliot's friends says, _'C__an't they just beam him up or something?'_ And Elliot's little face gets all exasperated and he replies, _'T__his is reality, Grant.'_ It cracks me up every time.

I sat on my fire escape, drinking my beer, and I thought about that. Maybe it was time for me to stop fantasizing and face my own reality. I was never going to be an intergalactic princess and Batman isn't real. There are no superheroes. In the end, you've got to settle for a man.

OooOoOo

_A/N: What do you think of Mary-lou's advice? Will Steph turn to health food in a desperate attempt to grow up? __Tune in next week...same bat time...same bat channel!_

_Thanks for the reviews - I try to reply to them all and I hope I haven't missed any. To those who have PMs switched off - I really appreciate your comments, sorry I couldn't reply individually._

_Babes...keep the faith; we're going into Cupcake territory but don't be fooled._

_Sesi_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Recognisable characters owned by Janet Evanovich and used without financial gain by me. Plot is mine, in all its flawed glory._

_My most grateful thanks to __**Dee and JannyB**__, who's feedback, insightful suggestions and pernickety eyes have helped to keep me on track and, in a very practical way, influenced the course of the story._

oOoOoOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 8 : The dream **

Two glasses of wine at Mary Lou's followed by two beers on my fire escape meant I wasn't exactly pickled when I hit the sack but I was out for the count. Truthfully, I had drunk those two beers precisely because I didn't want another night tossing the sheets with forbidden, lustful thoughts.

Instead, I had the strangest dream, which woke me in the grey light of dawn and left a lingering disquiet.

I was flying, not under my own power but perched on something I couldn't see no matter how hard I tried. Below, in my parents' front yard, my mother, Mary Lou and Bob were calling me to come down or I'd fall. Bob's shaggy, orange form leapt up, barking, trying to pull me down. In my dream I felt torn, not wanting to worry them, but I was curious and fiercely excited to go wherever my mysterious ride could take me. Up or down? I lifted my eyes away from my mother's face and the sky opened for me, blue and wide, wind in my hair, sun on my back. When I looked down there was no one below me, only wide plains of grass with mountains in the distance and the indefinite shadow of my invisible ride flickering over the undulating prairie.

I stuck my head under the pillow and went back to sleep but the odd feeling stayed with me, a mix of excitement and fear at the choice I had made in my dream to fly into the unknown with my dangerous companion. I woke before my alarm went off and rolled out of bed as soon as my eyes opened, wanting to escape from the embrace of the dream.

I showered and dressed fast, pulled my hair into a half-assed pony tail but took an extra few minutes to put on make up. There's always enough time for mascara. I briefly detoured to the kitchen to check on Rex, then grabbed my pocketbook and headed for the bonds office early. The unsettling feeling from the dream chased me like a shadow around my apartment and I almost ran out the door, not even bothering with coffee.

I stopped at _Dunkin' Donuts_ and picked up a dozen assorted along with an extra large coffee, figuring I'd cater breakfast for Connie and Lula as well. When you're stuffing your face it feels more supportive if everyone around you is doing it, too.

Connie was flapping her hands in the air as I swung in the door, drying off the fresh coat of hot pink polish that matched her lipstick. Connie Rosolli is Vinnie's muscle; not much bulk but more than enough attitude. Connie is Betty Boop with a moustache, more curves and more hair – a lot more hair. She's stayed with the job because she knows the combination to Vinnie's safe and feels free to run the office however the hell she wants. Vinnie whines about it but having an office manager who does everything means he can skulk out back, surfing porn sites and getting intimate with a wide cross-section of the animal kingdom.

Connie gave me a broad grin. "I was expecting you in leather. According to the 'burg grapevine you're contracted by _The Crucifer Club _to wear nothing but."

"Give me a break. There was absolutely no leather involved. I was on a job with Ranger." I put the donuts on Connie's desk and selected a jelly-filled.

Vinnie's door flew open and he greased his way over to Connie's desk, a weasel smile on his face. Vinnie comes from the sleaze end of the Plum gene pool. He has the body of a boneless ferret and he'll boink anything that moves, up to and including Joyce Barnhardt. Surprisingly, he's a pretty good bond agent, mainly because he's ahead of most of his clients in the race to deviancy.

Vinnie made to drape his arm over my shoulders but I stopped him with a look. "You touch me and you lose an arm."

"What? I'm just being friendly. So, is it true?" His voice dripped lechery. "Are you moonlighting at _The Crucifer Club? _Can you get me in? I heard they've got a fully-equipped dungeon for special clients." My ears were going to need dry cleaning.

"I am not moonlighting at _The Crucifer Club._ I've never even heard of _The Crucifer Club_ before today. What the hell is it? No! Forget I asked and I don't want to know what they've got in their dungeon."

"How the hell did you know what we're talking about out here anyway?" Connie asked, pinning him with a glare. "Your door was shut. You slime ball! You've got me bugged again." Connie started searching her desk, opening drawers, emptying out her pencil cup, looking under the desktop.

"I'm entitled. This is my business; I need to know what's going on in the front office."

"My ass! I'll find that bug and then I'll find _you_ and shove it where the sun don't shine."

"Yeah, but he'd probably enjoy that. I got ideas for some other stuff we could do that Vinnie won't enjoy." Lula slammed the street door behind her and sashayed her voluptuous self over to the desk.

Vinnie cut his eyes to her and slithered back into his office, the lock clicking over. He avoided messing with Lula. She'd been hired to do the filing but Lula did whatever the hell she wanted, having scared the bejezus out of Vinnie the first time he tried to rear end her when she bent over a low filing drawer. The filing usually got done but, mostly, Lula rode shotgun with me.

"Huh! I love seeing that grease stain run." Lula had a satisfied smirk on her face. "I hope there's some donuts left for me."

Lula was all orange today. Orange hair in Shirley Temple ringlets around her face, orange eyes, lips, nails, orange lycra bicycle shorts, orange high-soled sports boots, orange lycra top with spaghetti straps and a gold-sequinned tiger prowling down over her decollete neckline to match the big, gold hoops in her ears. With her sassy and rich chocolate skin, Lula made what would have been a fashion disaster on anyone else look good, but I shouldn't have taken off my sunglasses.

Lula dumped her bag on the naugahyde couch and checked the donut selection. "So what's the plan? You got any skips for Stephanie? We're gonna be real lucky today. I can feel it. We're gonna kick some butt and earn some big bucks."

Connie shook her head. "I've got nothing new. Just the drunk and disorderly outstanding from Friday. The only new file is a genuine psychopath but I'll wait until Ranger gets back for that one."

I flicked my eyes up at Connie. Ranger hadn't said anything to me about going out of town. The half a donut I'd eaten suddenly felt heavy in my stomach and I put down the uneaten remainder.

"What's the bond on the psychopath?" Lula wanted to know, biting into a chocolate glazed with her lips peeled back so she wouldn't ruin her lipstick.

Connie reached for a file and flipped it open. She held up a photo and read out the pertinent details. "Eric Bordhern. Bond is five hundred thousand. Aggravated rape, attempted rape, aggravated assault, abduction, grievous bodily harm, attempted homicide, reckless endangerment...there was a 15 year old girl involved...need I go on?"

I licked some sugar off my thumb and took a close look at the photo. He looked heavy-set. Heavy jowls, pasty complexion, long, stringy hair, big rubbery lips and pouchy grey eyes that looked dead. I shuddered and handed it back. "Nope. I'm convinced. He's Ranger's."

Lula was indignant. "No way! That's fifty thousand dollars you're giving up, white girl! We can take that pisser in. We got the brains, we got the fire power, we got the kick-ass attitude and we got fifty thousand reasons to get the job done! Just think how many shoes that's gonna buy you!"

Connie and I stared at Lula. I shook my head. "I'd like to live to enjoy the shoes I've already got. And I don't have any fire power. My gun's in my cookie jar and I can't afford to buy bullets."

Connie looked Lula over, her eyes speculating. "You're brimming over with positive attitude today. You're all...glowy. What's got into you?"

Lula gave a slow smile, looking like the Cheshire cat that got the cream. "That would be my honey-bear."

Connie frowned. "Aren't you dating that cross-dresser? The fireman. What's his name?"

"Yeah, that didn't work out. He got a little too enamoured with my wardrobe and started eyeing off my Via Spigas. Besides, we didn't have no chemistry going on so I gave him the old heave-ho. But then, Friday night, out of the blue, Tankie called me and we had a long talk and one thing led to another and we're back on. And I got a feeling it's for real this time."

I really like Tank. I've worked with him a lot on Rangeman jobs and he's almost on permanent Stephanie Watch so I knew that, once you got past his barriers, Tank was downright erudite and warm-hearted. Connie had only seen the business side of him and she was incredulous.

"You and Tank talked? Like, more than one word at a time?"

Lula's face got pissy. "Sure we talked. Tank talks all the time. He just got to be motivated. He's a real smart guy and I'll thank you to respect my man, you know what I'm saying?"

"I respect him. I just can't get a word out of him," Connie replied. "He comes in to pick up a Rangeman file and I swear we have a whole conversation without him opening his mouth once."

"Well, he's the big, strong, silent type," Lula responded. "He don't waste words unnecessarily." Ranger is a role model for his men in more ways than one.

I saw my chance. "So, did Tank talk about what Ranger's doing?"

"There was some big bust in Philly early Sunday morning and Ranger took off with a joint taskforce Saturday night."

Connie looked up from her bug search and destroy mission. "I heard something about Philly on the news. Some kind of terrorist cell and they found explosives and plans to blow up the art museum. They found a bomb under the Rocky statue. Ranger's there?"

"Yeah. He led a crack team of ninja warriors but Tank said Ranger was pissed as all get out he had to go Saturday night, like he had plans. Tank said Ranger was ornery as a rattlesnake with hives when he left. I never seen a rattlesnake with hives but it sound nasty."

A sudden spark of warmth went off in my belly and the lead weight lifted. Maybe Ranger hadn't run out on me just to make a point. Maybe he had wanted to stay but duty called. On the other hand, maybe it wasn't about me. Maybe the phone call had spoiled plans he had for later, with some blonde, and I was only the appetizer. I deflated again.

"Ha!" Connie had found the bug, stuck to the underside of her computer monitor. She made little circles with her hand to indicate we should keep talking and dug through her top drawer.

Lula picked up the volume. "Seeing as Batman ain't here, we should pick up the slack for him and go get this Eric Bordhern. Maybe I'll fry his boys with my stun gun a little if he don't come quietly. I might even accidentally shoot him. I got enough firepower for both of us."

"Forget it, Lula. I've had enough of crazies. Rangeman can handle Bordhern."

Connie had found what she was looking for. She quietly scooted around her desk to the back of the monitor, bent down low and blew a whistle as loudly as she could. We heard a howl from Vinnie's office and a couple of crashes, like maybe his chair had fallen down and taken him with it. Lula and Connie high-fived.

My cell rang. It was the detective from the beach job, wanting to arrange a time for me to make my statement. I had leather-shopping with Grandma and Elsie scheduled after lunch so I agreed to meet him in an hour and get it over with.

"I've gotta move. I have to go give a statement about the job on Saturday. Lula, I need to take Grandma shopping after lunch. She wants to buy leather gear for a nudie calendar and I don't know where to go. Can you give me some pointers?"

"Do bears shit in the woods? You've come to the right woman, girlfriend! But I'm coming with you. No way I'm going to spend the day filing when I can watch your grandma harassing shop assistants."

"Okay. I'll drive down to give my statement at Howell police station then I'll swing back to pick you up and you can come eat lunch at my parents' house."

"I can do that. I love your mother's cooking. Wait, Grandma's doing a nudie calendar? Girl, you got the most interesting family of anybody I know."

It was a one-and-a-half hour round trip to Howell and I drove with the top down, singing along with _Nine Inch Nails_ at the top of my voice. It was an excellent way to distract my thoughts from revisiting the last time I'd made the fateful trip in Ranger's car.

Detective John Anderson was so tickled by the whole Bombshell Bounty Hunter story Ranger had spun for him that he made the process as easy for me as he could. I signed off and was out of the station within the hour.

I picked up Lula and we made it to my parents' just as lunch hit the table. Grandma was happy to see us, dressed in Lula-inspired lycra bike shorts and tank. My mother's impeccable 'burg good manners guaranteed Lula five star hospitality but Mom's lips were pressed tight. She thinks Lula is a bad influence on Grandma.

Grandma was in a hurry. "Let's hit the road, girls. We got a lot of ground to cover." She grabbed her purse and tried to scoot Lula.

Mom pulled me back as we trooped toward the door. "Promise me you won't let her buy anything that gets her over-excited. I'm running out of places to hide the things she brings home."

"I can't control Grandma."

Mom sighed. "I know. But if you value dessert, you'll try."

We picked up Elsie and spent the rest of the afternoon hopping in and out of more fetish shops than I ever imagined existed. Who knew there was such a variety in erotic specialties? By the time we dropped off Grandma back home with arms full of discreetly wrapped brown paper packages, she was hyperactive with excitement and Lula and I were exhausted.

"White girl, your Grandma puts sex maniacs half her age to shame, you know that? She was like a six-year-old in a candy store."

"I don't know how I'm going to explain the Pussy Tickler to my mother on Friday night. I hope to God Grandma doesn't work out what all the optional buttons do."

oOo

The next day Lula and I turned our attention to my one outstanding file. I didn't expect any problems with Oswald Rudebeker, a drunk and disorderly who was one of my regular FTAs. Ossie always came willingly as long as I promised to buy him a bottle of bourbon after he was bonded out again.

"He ain't here. Maybe he's sleeping it off somewhere else?" Lula was standing in Ossie's kitchen. The front door to his apartment had swung open to my knock and we'd checked every room without finding any sign of Ossie. More tellingly, his wardrobe looked very empty.

I decided to remain optimistic. "Maybe he's at his mother's. A couple of times I've picked him up at his mother's, having a big fried breakfast." A lot like me. I could often be found at my mother's having a big, fried breakfast.

Mrs Rudebeker wasn't home and there was no sign of activity in her apartment so Lula and I sat in the car outside her building while Lula ate her way through breakfast fries and a double bacon and egg McMuffin. I'd passed on a second breakfast. It had nothing to do with my strength of character and everything to do with being broke.

There were no other files to chase so we spent the rest of the day visiting Ossie's favorite haunts, looking for a lead. Finally, a bartender told us he'd heard Ossie had gone down to Washington to visit his uncle. That would explain the empty wardrobe.

Lula was frustrated. "You gonna go down to DC to get him? Cause I ain't coming. I don't need no two-day road trip right now."

I sighed. "No, not for the hundred bucks. I'll ask Connie do to a search on the uncle and Vinnie can get a DC contractor to pick him up."

The day was over with nothing much to show for it but a lot of fast food wrappers in the back of the car. I dropped off Lula and went home to relieve Rex of apartment-guarding duty.

TBC

oOoOoOo

_The kindness of providing feedback is always appreciated._


	9. Chapter 9

A/N A little bit of sex herein, but in the most playful way. Huge, gigantic, gargantuan warning that we're going deep into Cupcake territory but Babes – _keep the faith!_ Our man in black is ever-present.

With thanks for all your comments in reviews and PMs. You keep me motivated, you make me think and you help to improve the story.

My sincere gratitude to **Dee and JannyB** for all their fabulous advice.

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**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 9: The Commitment**

I showered, changed into old sweat pants and a clean t-shirt and flopped back spread-eagled on my bed to think. Even if I chased Rudebeker to Washington, and I wasn't going to, the hundred bucks minus Lula's cut would barely pay the gas for the round trip and wouldn't solve my cash problem. The Rangeman check had paid my overdue rent; the two hundred I made on Friday had gone on food and utilities with the pitiful remainder making a tiny splash in the deep bucket which was my debt to Macy's. My rent was due again in just over a week. If no new skips came in soon, I was screwed.

Usually when I have a financial crisis, I go to Ranger and he gives me a desk job doing background searches for Rangeman. I never stay long because after a couple of weeks of reading through computer printouts I'm almost comatose with boredom. I may be Ms Curiosity but most routine searches are dry as old hamster droppings and even less appetising. Besides, too much time around Ranger wears down my resistance to the point where I need to chain myself to my desk chair to keep from dry-humping his leg when he walks past. With the situation between us as it stood, I was uncomfortable going to Ranger about money but I might have to swallow my dignity.

And I was going to have to do something about the Morelli situation. After the discussion with Mary Lou, I realized I had to bite the bullet and end this on-again-off-again situation one way or another. Talk about unhealthy patterns of behavior! My relationships with both Morelli and Ranger were so dysfunctional textbooks could be written about them. The irony was laughable and I would have laughed except it was better to avoid hysteria.

When I heard the soft knock on my door I knew by the squishy feeling in my stomach that it was Morelli before I peeked through the peephole. I gnawed my lip, debating whether to open the door. Despite my resolution to face up, the urge to pretend I'd moved to Alaska was strong. I peeked again and saw he was carrying a pizza box. I bet there was nothing to compete with Pino's pizza in Alaska.

I opened the door and we looked at one another speculatively. Bob stuck his nose in and pushed the door all the way open, jumping up to give me sloppy kisses all over my face. I rubbed his tummy and kept my eyes on Morelli.

"The mountain has come to Mohammed," Morelli greeted me. "And the mountain brought food."

"I have food." I was down to my last peanut butter and olive sandwich but there was no need to be explicit.

"I have cake." He'd trumped me. I let him in.

Morelli balanced the pizza with a cake box from _Tasty Pastry_ on top of it in one hand and lugged a couple of grocery bags in the other. He carried them into the kitchen and unpacked on the counter, pulling out beer, bread, peanut butter, milk, coffee, Frosted Flakes and Cheerios, a couple of packs of TastyKakes, Pop Tarts, two family-size macaroni and cheese and a tub of Ben & Jerry's. Morelli was filling my pantry with happy food. I felt a warm softness in the region of my heart.

"Thanks Joe. You didn't have to do this, you know."

He looked at me over the grocery bags, his eyes warm, then leaned across the counter to kiss my forehead.

"I like looking after you." He smiled and I felt my own smile mirroring his.

"I heard you and Lula haven't had a big week."

I sighed. "The bond business is slow."

"Maybe you should think about a supplementary job."

My stomach sank. My only supplementary work was with Rangeman and I was pretty sure that's not what Morelli had in mind. I hoped we hadn't hit the subject of how sucky my job was before we'd even sat down.

He looked at me evenly. "I hear they're hiring at _The Crucifer Club. _Maybe you should consider it."

I had geared myself up for a fight so it took me a beat to realize he was teasing. He flashed me a grin and started laughing.

"Oh my God! You, too?" I reached across to whack him on the arm. "There was no leather!"

"Yeah, but you'd look great in leather." He came around the counter still chuckling and pulled me close, bending his head into my neck to nuzzle. I wrapped my arms around his waist and relaxed into him, stretching my neck out a little to enjoy Morelli's ministrations.

"Mmm, I've missed you, Cupcake. You taste very appetizing." He did some more tasting and I was starting to think a little action might be a good thing when my stomach growled.

I ignored it, rubbing my hands up his back and kissing his jaw, but my stomach wouldn't cooperate and a Harley-sized rumble erupted. Morelli let out a low, frustrated growl and released me. "Come on, Cupcake. We'd better feed that wild animal you've got there before the pizza gets cold."

I got plates, cutlery and hand towels, Morelli grabbed the food and beer and we took it into the living room and settled on the couch. Morelli picked up the remote to channel-surf then stopped abruptly to glance at me sheepishly. "Do you feel like a movie?"

I laughed at him. "No, let's watch the game."

Bob begged for his portion of pizza, inhaled it and came back for more.

"Sorry, big guy. Steph and I get the rest." Morelli pointed at the armchair and Bob's tail drooped but he hopped up and nestled in.

We got comfortable, Morelli with his arm around my shoulders, my feet tucked under me. We ate the pizza, drank beer and watched the game while Morelli snuck kisses along my neck and shoulder and let his hands wander. When the pizza was all gone, we ate half of the chocolate cream sponge birthday cake, with icing and sprinkles, that Morty didn't need for his 63rd birthday. Bob didn't get any; he was on a diet.

The game ended in victory and you know what they say about the effect of victory on the male libido – not that Morelli's libido needs much encouragement. He picked me up, carried me into the bedroom and Bob got the couch to himself. What can I say; birthday cake is one of my two favorite aphrodisiacs. The other one is Bulgari Green Tea Shower Gel but that one is strictly by association.

And after that came the hard part.

Morelli rolled onto his side, looking all virile and sexy, and ran his hand gently over my body while I recovered. I was on my back, still rag-doll floppy after a Morelli-induced orgasm. Morelli's hand paused again on the purple-yellow bruise that was left from my encounter with Alicia's bottle and his mouth hardened. He hadn't liked seeing the evidence of yet another of my job-related injuries.

He propped himself up on his elbow and brushed my sweaty hair back from my face. "I think we've stalled long enough, Steph. Not that I'm complaining about our detour, but I think it's time to talk."

I sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Okay. But I want to set some ground rules."

"You've been thinking about this."

"Yeah."

"What did you have in mind?"

"First, no accusations. We state our issues clearly, calmly and objectively."

"Okay."

"Second, no storming off. We never solve anything that way."

"I agree. I hate storming off in the middle of the night, anyway." He leaned toward me and kissed my nose. His eyes were all crinkly at the corners like he was going to laugh.

"I'm serious, Joe! I want us to really talk."

He sat up to lean back against the head of the bed. "I know and I agree. I'm not laughing, I'm impressed. No yelling, no accusations, no storming off. But you're gonna have to let me wave my arms around otherwise I can't think."

I cracked a smile. "Okay. Waving of arms, pacing and consumption of donuts is allowed."

"See, this isn't so hard. We've already agreed on the basics." Morelli's eyes were chocolatey-warm.

I puckered my nose at him. "Yeah. Now all we have left to agree on is my job, my friends and my lifestyle. Easy peasy."

"Come on, Steph. There are only two things that cause friction between us and I think we can come to terms about your job."

"What's the other thing?"

Morelli's eyes hardened. "We'll get to him later." No objections from me. I could avoid talking about Ranger forever.

"What about you, Steph? Tell me how you see it."

I'd turned this over a few times and I'd come to a similar conclusion to Morelli: my job and Ranger were the two major issues that caused friction. But there was a third issue, which was primary to me and Morelli didn't seem to get. He wanted me to morph into a traditional stay at home wife and mother. I sat up, wrapping my arms around my legs so my chin rested on my knees.

"For me, it's not my job but how you respond to it. I know things go wrong but you tear me down about it, Joe, and I hate that. It's not that you get angry, it's that you make me feel incompetent and inadequate. And your solution is that I should quit my job, play it safe and set up housekeeping, and that sucks big time. I don't want to be a housewife. I don't want to be dependent."

Morelli's jaw dropped open. "Jesus! Inadequate and incompetent?" He frowned and it took him a couple of breaths to get over the moment of shock. He shook his head and scooted across to me. "Come here."

He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. "I don't think you're incompetent or inadequate. Not in any way. I'm sorry I made you feel that way, Steph."

He kissed my hair and held onto me for a while before he pulled back. He stared down at the bed as he considered his response.

"I know you want to be independent. Thing is, you've chosen a dangerous job dealing with mostly angry, sometimes violent, people. And I don't think it's a good fit for you. You're smart and stubborn and I've never heard of anyone with the kind of luck you have, so you pull it off a lot of the time. But the job description is the opposite of who you are. You hate guns, violence makes you nauseous, you won't get any physical training because you hate exercise and you feel sorry for most of your skips. And it's not like the pay is so great. Am I right?"

I nodded, reluctantly. What can I say, when he's right, he's right.

"Why do you want to be a bounty hunter? I don't understand."

I took a moment to find the words. "Well...I don't have to wear pantyhose." Morelli stared at me like I was speaking Klingon.

"What I mean is, I don't have to answer to anyone. No one tells me what to do or how to do it. I have freedom. Every day is different. I have to come up with my own answers, put the puzzle together, face the challenge. It's exciting. Sometimes it's really scary, and I hate being down in the shit with the bottom-feeders, but most of the time I get the job done. I have a better than average success rate in bringing in my skips. And I do that; it's me."

Morelli studied me with dark eyes, listening. After a long silence, he drew in a deep breath, staring unseeing across the room. "Okay, Cupcake. I think I get it. I'll never like it and I'm not sure I can get used to it but I'll live with it if it's what you want to do."

He looked up at me, his eyes sharp. "But it would help me a lot if you would... I don't know how to say it."

Morelli raked his hands through his hair, muttering under his breath. I hugged my knees, waiting for him to get it together. He swung out of bed and started pacing up and down my bedroom then stopped at the end of my bed to glare at me with his hands on his hips. Naked. Most men would look ridiculous trying to exude authority while naked and with their doodle hanging but Morelli looked the business. But then, he has a mighty fine doodle.

"Steph, can you _try _to be a little more responsible? Maybe you could consider not taking on the total nutcases. You seem to be a magnet for them! Use your common sense instead of being so impetuous. Get some training. And you don't have to be so stubborn about doing it all yourself. Ask me for help. And it won't kill you to back down sometimes when it gets hairy, in fact, it might keep you alive!"

"Joe, you're yelling."

"Shit!" He turned around to sit on the bed with his back to me, breathing hard and muttering to himself. He blew out some air. "I'm sorry."

I moved to the foot of the bed to hug him from behind and felt him slowly release the tension. He took my hand from where it stroked his chest and kissed my palm, holding on to it.

"I love you, Steph. I worry. I can't help it. I don't want all that bad stuff you deal with to hurt you. There have been times when I thought the job had killed you and that nearly killed me."

Morelli shifted, pulling me around his body so I was in his lap. I pressed my cheek into his shoulder and he hugged me close.

"I'm going to do my best with this, Cupcake. I'll try not undermine your decisions – not that I ever did that intentionally but I can see it comes to the same thing. But I need you to meet me part way and promise me you'll consciously try to reduce the risks you take. Get some professional training. Don't shut me out when it gets tough. Can we agree on this?"

I snaked my arm around his neck and reached up to kiss his jaw. "Agreed. You support me and I'll do my best to be less reckless." Morelli's smile broadened and got downright wicked, his eyes darkening.

He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine. "We need to seal the agreement, Cupcake." His voice thrummed whisky-smooth against my mouth.

"We do?"

"Mmm, we do," coaxing my lips apart with his tongue and lips. "We need to seal it with a kiss. Maybe even with several kisses."

He was as good as his word. Still holding me, Morelli moved back on the bed, rolled to lay me on my back and settled his warmth over me. His mouth commenced a journey down my body to seal kisses everywhere. I guess you could say we made an executive decision to hold over the rest of the discussion until later.

We spent two days talking, taking time to eat, sleep and work – okay, Morelli took time to work because I didn't have any new FTAs to chase down. We clarified what form Morelli's support would take, worked out how I was going to be less reckless. We came to no conclusion on the issue of children. Morelli wanted them, I wasn't sure I ever would but we decided to wait and see how we felt in the future. We definitely agreed that my transformation into a traditional housewife wasn't part of the deal. And we agreed I'd give up my apartment and move into his house.

Finally, Morelli broached the elephant in the room, my friendship with Ranger. We were at his house, soon to be my house, sitting on the couch facing each other. Morelli looked down at his hands and chose his words carefully.

"I know you're friends and I'm not asking you to cut Ranger out of your life, but I need you to back off." He raised his eyes to meet mine, using the x-ray vision that made him such a good cop.

"Steph, I need to know that I come first with you; that I'm not competing with a close second. I need to know you won't let him, or anyone else, come between us. I don't want to field any more rumors about you two in the alley next to the bond office, or see his cars in your lot late at night. I can't keep doing this three-way split. I won't."

I winced at hearing that Morelli had heard about the alley and knew about Ranger's midnight visits. This was it, the crossroad I'd avoided for so long. Morelli or Ranger, Ranger or Morelli.

But Ranger wasn't an option. He'd made that completely clear. He didn't want any commitments; no rings, no strings, nothing stupid. He said he loved me in his own way, maybe like a toy or a pet at best, and he'd proved it in his apartment that Saturday night, playing with me because he knew he could. If I didn't make the decision, then Ranger would do it for me anyway. As my novelty value wore off, he'd walk away and leave me to wither in his wake like the tragic heroine in some sappy eighteenth-century romance novel. Phooey to that! Batman was a dream and Morelli was a man. And I was going to make the sensible, adult choice. I was going to stop hedging my bets.

I nodded. "Okay, Joe."

He studied me a while longer, assessing just how serious I was, giving me time to think. Then a slow smile softened the hard angles of his face. He pulled me across the couch into his lap, wrapped his arms around me and leant his forehead on mine.

"No going back. No on-again-off-again. We become an us. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Steph. You have to mean it."

"I know. I do."

He tipped my chin up and kissed me, sealing the deal. Something deeply rooted in me shifted. I felt a sudden vertigo like I was falling, plummeting to the ground. If Morelli hadn't been holding me I would have tumbled off the couch.

Morelli pulled away a little, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. "Are you okay, Cupcake?"

I nodded. "It's late and I'm beat." I burrowed my face in his chest and took a big, relaxing breath. Probably it was just the shock of sudden change. We'd been running hot and cold for so long commitment was going to take a while for both of us to get used to.

I was almost asleep with Morelli spooning behind me when he roused me with a whisper in my ear.

"Cupcake?"

"Mmm?"

"You think we should get married? Just do it, finally?"

"You want to?"

"Yeah. I want to."

I thought about it with the small slice of brain that remained awake. If we were going to do this thing, then better to jump in at the deep end. In view of our track record, it was probably better not to give ourselves time to get cold feet and retreat into old habits.

"Okay. I'm in."

We woke up Friday morning engaged to be married. I had a hinky feeling one of us had gotten the fuzzy end of that lollipop. We talked about it over breakfast.

"I still think you should move into the house when your rental ends next week. We have enough time to organize our stuff."

I shook my head as I stirred my coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Joe, the minute I give up the apartment, my mom will have the hall booked for the wedding reception. We need time to plan how we want to do it before we lose control."

"So how do you want to do it?"

I shrugged. "How about we fly to Vegas and tell them afterwards? Then my mom and your mom can put on a Broadway show and invite the whole 'burg if they want. I won't have to do the gown thing, with bridesmaids and flowers and color-coordinated table napkins."

Morelli thought about it, his eyes resting on me thoughtfully. "You definitely don't want a 'burg wedding?"

He chuckled at the surprise on my face and came over to wrap both arms around my waist, holding me close. "It would be a celebration, with everyone we know a part of it. All our friends, all our family. A big party, lots of witnesses."

The butterflies that had taken up permanent residence in my belly started dive bombing in force. "When did you get so sentimental?"

Morelli grinned, looking sexy and anything but sentimental. "Steph, if you want, we'll go to Vegas. As long as you don't run out on me at the altar, I'll do it any way you want."

I wrapped my arms loosely around Morelli's neck and watched him, thinking the options through. I really, really didn't want another big production number. I'd done it once with Dickie and it was enough for two lifetimes. But this was Morelli's one and only shot. Morelli marriages are forever.

"How about this? We announce a wedding date for some time next spring. Our mothers will take it as a signal to raise Armageddon and we'll just let them. Then we invite everyone to our housewarming next month and when they get there, we'll have a wedding ceremony. We'll have to set it up with Father Gabriel but I'm pretty sure he'll do it. So you get your big wedding celebration, I avoid an ocean of tulle and our mothers get the rug pulled from under them. It's win-win." I grinned up at him.

Morelli put his head back and laughed, holding me close so I could feel it reverberate through the hard muscle of his chest. "Cupcake, you are the most devious woman I know."

"And you love me for it, right?" I kissed his jaw.

His eyes glittered. "Among other things. So, that means we announce it to your parents at dinner tonight?"

My stomach rolled over. That meant the whole of the 'burg would know by midnight. That dizzy feeling of tumbling out of the sky returned and my knees gave out. "Oh, my God."

"Steph? You okay?" Morelli caught me, helped me to a chair and made me sit with my head between my legs.

"Oh, my God," I repeated, hyperventilating. "We're getting married in five weeks."

Morelli squatted next to me, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "It's okay, Cupcake, just relax and breathe through your nose, nice and slow."

I was sweating like Mike Tyson in a spelling bee. My ears were ringing and black spots floated in my vision. I concentrated on getting my heartbeat to slow down. When I felt together, I looked up at Morelli. His face was serious, his eyes careful and veiled.

"Stephanie. Are you sure you want to do this?" He studied my face.

I thought about all the experiences we'd gone through together, the easy companionship, the comfort of his arms, the history and the way of life we had in common. And I loved Morelli, I was certain. It was different to the visceral, primal yearning I felt for Ranger; it was more controlled, less scary. An ordinary love just like ordinary people feel. Real.

I nodded.

"Are you sure? You almost fainted at the idea of telling your parents."

I snorted at him. "Just wait until we tell your mother and Grandma Bella. Then we'll see who's faint-hearted."

_To be continued._

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_A/N: As always, I'd like to know how you feel about the story. If you don't tell me, my insecurities take over._


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: _with thanks to __**Dee and JannyB**__ for their feedback and suggestions._

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**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 10: Floral tribute**

Morelli's eyes scanned the table and his shoulders relaxed when he saw there would be only the five of us for dinner. My sister Val, Albert and their three girls were skipping Friday dinners lately because Val was on a diet and she couldn't resist gravy and dessert. I felt a guilty sense of relief that the Klougns wouldn't be joining the three-ringed circus for our big announcement. My gut had felt on the verge of queasy all day at the thought of what was coming.

Morelli had his charm gauge on high. "Dinner smells good, Helen. Do you need a hand to bring things out?"

He pulled out my chair for me and seated himself, knowing before he'd even asked that my mother would rather plunge a knife in her chest than admit she needed a hand in her kitchen. I prodded him in the ribs and he flashed me a grin.

"No, no, I'm coming out now," my mother called. "Joseph, you can pour the wine and I'll bring out the gravy."

Mom came through the swing door, gravy jug in one hand and a basket of warm dinner rolls in the other. She cast a critical eye over the table. "Okay, we have everything. Where's your grandmother? Mother! Dinner's on the table."

"Keep your shirt on! I was waiting until everyone was sitting down so I could make my entrance." Grandma stuck her head around the corner to check she had our full attention.

"Are you ready?"

Mom sighed and slipped on her long-suffering martyr face. Morelli's mouth twitched in anticipation and he flicked his eyes to me before turning to the door.

Grandma strutted in and we shifted from apprehension, through shock, and deep into utter stupefaction.

A black leather bustier hung askew on her chicken carcass ribcage and red fishnets were pulled up above the band of the barely there low-rider shorts to where her waist used to be. Mom let out a hysterical squawk somewhere between a sob and a giggle then slapped both hands over her mouth. Morelli and I gaped, our mouths working in unison like guppies.

Morelli couldn't look away, mesmerized by the blinding expanse of white, old lady blubber wobbling like blancmange through the red weave of the tights. My mother grasped hold of her knife and fork, possibly to stab out both her eyes. Dad, of course, stoically maintained his gravitas, pouring gravy over his roast chicken and vegetables, head down and lips pressed tight. Years of experience had taught him it was better not to watch Grandma's entrance.

"What do you think? Does it work?" She attempted a little pirouette so we could see the back of the ensemble and nearly toppled over on thigh-high spike-heeled boots. Morelli clapped his hands over his eyes but it was too late; the image of Grandma's ass cheeks sagging below the short shorts was indelibly burned onto his eyeballs.

"I bought it as part of my costume for the calendar but I've changed my mind. It's a little tame for what we've got in mind."

Dad paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and threw a fleeting glance at Grandma. I saw his lips move and thought I caught a mutter of "old fruitcake", before he continued chewing.

My mother shook her fork at me. "You promised me. That's why I sent you shopping with her. Where did you take her? This isn't from Macy's."

"I took her to Macy's first but the floor staff wouldn't serve us. I think Grandma's been blackballed from Macy's."

Morelli leaned toward my ear. "What the fuck does she have in mind for that outfit? No, on second thoughts, don't tell me."

"Just deal. You know you'll hear about it."

Grandma sat, adjusted herself to refill the bustier where her boobs had dribbled under the band and served herself potatoes and green beans. "Helen, you have such a stick up your –"

My mom interrupted with a shriek. "Can you watch your mouth at the table? We're having a nice family dinner here!" She had tossed back her wine and was refilling her glass.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. Can you pass the chicken?" Morelli passed the chicken. "I've got great news! I called Paco Lopez and he's going to do it! He wasn't going to at first, he said he was fully booked with some designer collection, but I turned on the charm and got him talking and when he realized I'm your grandmother he agreed right away."

"Who's Paco Lopez?" Morelli asked, keeping his eyes averted from Grandma. He tore off some of his bread roll to mop gravy from his plate.

"He was the client on the beach job last weekend. His ex-wife kidnapped their son and we got him back. He's a very successful photographer."

"Yeah, and he says he's never done a theme calendar before. It's going to be great! I've been practicing in front of the mirror, trying some of the poses those supermodels use. Why didn't you tell me you two are good friends? It would have saved me a lot of time."

"We're not such good friends. I mean, he's a nice guy but I only met him last Saturday."

"Well, he's coming down to Trenton to meet the girls. We're going to get dressed in our costumes so he'll get the full impact." Grandma reached across the table for the gravy.

Morelli draped his arm over the back of my chair and leaned close. "If your grandma leans over the table any more, the full impact of her spillover will cause me to run screaming from the house. Just so you know."

"Does this Paco Lopez know what kind of calendar you've got in mind?" Mom asked.

Grandma looked shifty-eyed. "Not exactly. I told him it was to raise funds for a big project to make life better for seniors. I thought we'd explain it to him when he comes for the meeting. It's hard to explain about a nudie calendar on the phone without sounding cheap." Right.

"Not to mention the swingers' club at the beach they're planning to spend the money on." I muttered in Morelli's ear.

Morelli snorted and red wine spurted onto the tablecloth. My mother jumped up to get some baking soda from the kitchen to soak it up and came back with a glass of scotch.

Grandma leaned across the table to stage whisper to Morelli. "Thanks for the distraction, hotstuff. Helen's been giving me an earful all day."

We had started on the chocolate cream pie when Morelli cleared his throat and threw me a meaningful look. My stomach rolled over.

"Stephanie and I have an announcement we'd like to share with you."

Jaws stopped moving and three sets of eyes swivelled to his face. I fought the urge to dive across to cover his mouth with my hand so he couldn't say anything. Instead, I clasped my hands tightly and focussed on breathing away the spots in front of my eyes. I felt like throwing up but that was unthinkable at my mother's dinner table.

"Steph has decided to give up her apartment and move in with me."

The only response was a resigned sigh from my mother. Dad dropped his eyes back on his plate and poured fudge sauce over his slice of pie. I guess they were so used to me moving in and out of Morelli's house every few months it seemed normal. My heart was pounding so hard at the thought of what was coming next I could hear the thump of my pulse in my ears.

"And we've decided we're going to get married. We want to have the wedding next spring."

There were ten seconds of complete silence before my mother shrieked and threw herself across the table onto Morelli's neck like he was the messiah reborn, weeping with joy. My dad looked up and shifted his gaze to me, his eyes narrowing to study my face. I wondered what he was seeing and scrambled to look calm.

"Thank God! Joseph Anthony Morelli, God bless you! I'd just about given up hope!" My mother had Morelli in a death grip around his neck and his face showed early signs of asphixiation. He patted her back awkwardly with one hand and worked to loosen her elbow lock with the other.

"I always knew you were the right man for my Stephanie. Even when you were a little boy – oh, you might have been a little wild but I knew your heart was in the right place." Huh. She must have forgotten the time she'd chased him off the porch with a broom. Morelli cut his eyes to me and flashed his wolf grin.

"So, where's the ring?" Grandma wanted to know. "You better have got my granddaughter a really big rock. It's like a wedding insurance policy, you know, because she gets to keep it even if you call it off."

Mom had unravelled her arms from Morelli's neck, came over to kiss me liberally then sat in her place, mopping her eyes.

"I'm not calling it off, Mrs Mazur. It's taken me years to get her to say yes and I'm keeping her. And yes, I did get her a diamond."

He dug into his pocket and removed a small, blue velvet jewellery box. He flipped it open to reveal a gold engagement ring with a solitaire diamond in a high, elaborate setting. We all stared at the ring.

My mother started sobbing again, holding a tea towel to her mouth. Morelli took it out of the box and reached across to take my left hand, which was still white-knuckled from tension. He slipped the ring onto my ring finger and kissed my hand. We all stared at my finger.

I hadn't worn any jewellery on my hands since I divorced Dickie and the ring felt awkward. I twiddled my fingers, trying to get the feel of it.

"When did you get this?" I asked. "We only decided this morning."

"I've had my eye on it for a while. I went in and picked it up at lunch."

"How about we open another bottle of wine to celebrate?" Mom turned to my dad. "Frank, do we have any champagne? We had some left from Valerie's wedding."

Dad sent a sour, knowing look towards Grandma. "I had two bottles left in the basement but they disappeared."

Morelli shook his head. "I won't be drinking any more anyway. I have to work tonight. My partner will be picking me up pretty soon."

In addition to his regular departmental work, Morelli had been invited onto a long-term joint taskforce on a hush-hush project. He hadn't been able to tell me much about it beyond the barest facts that it involved the Mob and the Sicilian Mafia and he'd sworn me to secrecy. For the last six months or so he'd been partnered with Gina Parrino, one of two detectives seconded from the Sicilian police for the duration of the taskforce investigation.

The wedding talk between my mom and grandma was in full swing so I didn't need to participate. Morelli and I shared conspiratorial glances as we listened to their plans for a seven-tier wedding cake and the argument about whether the bridesmaids' dresses should be pale blue chiffon to show up my eyes or hot pink leather. It would come to nothing in less than five weeks at our housewarming surprise. I felt a little guilty, but only the tiniest little bit.

Morelli draped his arm over my shoulder, leaning across to speak into my ear. "See what you're missing? Hot pink leather bridesmaids and you could wear a form-fitting white leather." I rolled my eyes at him and he kissed my cheek, grinning.

Around eight there was a knock at the door and Morelli got up. "I'll get it. It's probably Gina."

I heard murmuring in the hall and a woman's low laughter and then they appeared at the dining room door. My family all knew about Morelli's temporary partner but this was the first time they'd met her.

Gina's eyes quickly scanned the table to find me and she threw me a movie star smile. "Congratulations, Stephanie! He give you the ring, _si_? He worry you won't like." She shoved Morelli's shoulder. "I tell him he is crazy. Ring is very nice but more important that he put on your finger, _no_?"

"Holy Toledo! Steph was right. You look just like Gina Lollobrigida." Grandma left her chair to check out our guest up close. "Except you've got green eyes. And you've got that same sexy Italian accent she had, too. I bet it pulls in the men. You think I could learn to speak with an accent like that?"

Gina blinked at Grandma, totally discombobulated by the shrunken senior citizen with scarlet sausage curls in a leather pole-dancer outfit. Grandma can do that to most people. Morelli stepped in, working hard to smother a smile.

"Mr and Mrs Plum – Frank, Helen – and Edna Mazur, Stephanie's parents and her grandmother. This is my partner, Gina Parrino. Gina's on an exchange from Sicily to build trans-national cooperation." The department had worked out an acceptable explanation for her presence in Trenton.

Gina recovered her senses and moved smoothly to my mother, holding out both hands. Mom held hers out by reflex and Gina clasped them to pull her in close to kiss her Roman-style on both cheeks. She congratulated Mom on the engagement and moved on to repeat the performance with my grandma and dad. My mom and dad looked dazed in her wake, and dad's cheeks were a little pink.

Mom remembered her 'burg manners. "Please sit! We were just having dessert. Would you like some fudge sauce with the pie? How do you have your coffee?"

Gina's whole body expressed regret. "Oh! I would like very much but is not possible. We are late for a meeting. Is very rude, _no?_ I would like very much to come another time_?_"

Everyone went through the kissy-kissy routine in reverse, Dad actually stepping forward for his share, and we headed for the door. I grabbed my bag to escape at the same time as Morelli and Gina. For the first time in living memory I didn't have the stomach for dessert and I didn't want to risk being questioned about wedding plans without Morelli there as a buffer.

Out on the footpath, Gina kissed me on both cheeks and stepped back to warmly congratulate me again. "Joe is very lucky man, Stephanie. He is very happy. You are both very happy, _si?_ I wish you have long, good life together and many _bambini_."

I unravelled myself from her well-meaning embrace and nodded. Gina seemed awfully well-informed about Morelli's state of happiness, and she'd known about the ring before I did. I'd collar him about that later.

Morelli wrapped me in his arms to kiss me and I leaned into him, my arms loose around his waist. "You going back to the house?" he asked. "I don't think the team meeting will take long."

"No, I think I'll go back to my apartment. I'm beat."

He kissed the top of my head and drove off in the rust-bucket, police issue car Gina had arrived in. I said my own good nights, impatient to get away. Dad walked me to Morelli's SUV and helped me in, then stood in front of the open car door, studying me again just as he had at the dinner table.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to ask...Well...you're sure about this, pumpkin? You love him, right? I mean, I think he's okay but I'm not the one marrying him. You and Morelli did this engagement thing once before. You're not doing this because your mother wore you down, are you? You're happy?"

My father keeps his head down and his mouth shut so I tend to forget that he sees much more than he lets on. I didn't expect this level of astuteness and I bit my lip.

"I love him, Dad. It's not because Mom wore me down." _It's because superheroes have deep, dark secrets and they don't do commitment._ I tamped down that thought before it got a grip. I'd finally made a responsible decision and I was going to see it through.

"Okay, pumpkin. Just make sure you make decisions based on what you want." He leaned in to kiss my cheek then shuffled back to shut the door. My throat was tight and I took a moment to swallow past it before starting the car.

I parked Morelli's SUV next to my Mustang and took the stairs up – I'd had a week of junk food overload and my jeans were straining at the seams. I stepped into my apartment and the quiet solitude felt so good after the rapturous chaos of my parents' house. I felt a stab of regret at the thought of giving it up. At giving it _all_ up; my privacy, my independence, my daydreams. Ranger. _Back up, Stephanie._

I looked down at the diamond ring on my finger, wondering how the hell it had got there. It weighed down my hand like lead.

I walked into the kitchen to get some water and check on Rex. "So, what do you think, Rex? I'm getting married. You're gonna have a daddy." Rex was too busy running his New York marathon to answer. Life was so simple for a hamster.

My answering machine was blinking and I leaned over it to see the number six flashing at me. All the messages were from my mother's friends, congratulating me on my engagement. I sighed and pulled the phone plug out of the wall. I'd left my parents' house only fifteen minutes ago and the 'burg grapevine was already on it.

I headed to the bathroom to wash off the day and stared into the mirror. I looked normal but I felt like I'd been turned inside out. This getting married business was stressful, even more stressful than with Dickie, maybe because I was less ignorant this time around.

I stripped off and slipped the ring from my finger, leaving it next to the sink before getting in the shower. Tomorrow I'd have to field calls from everyone I knew. I stood under the shower, washing away the weight of the day. I dried off, wrapped the towel around me and walked into my bedroom, flipping the light on. I stopped in my tracks.

On my pillow lay one perfect, long-stemmed, deep red rose.


	11. Chapter 11

_With thanks to everyone who left feedback – it really does make my day. Special thanks to Dee and JannyB for everything._

_Ssi_

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**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 11: Making it public**

The rose was from Ranger. There was no note or any other clue but I just knew it. No one else could enter like smoke and leave no trace – crazies and mouth-breathers were not this tidy nor this romantic.

The thought that Ranger had come to lay it on my pillow was so euphoric I was soaring. I picked up the perfect flower, holding the opening bud to my nose to check whether it had a scent. I smiled as I detected the subtle perfume. Of course. Ranger wouldn't choose a rose without fragrance. I took another long, luxurious sniff then almost dropped it to race into the kitchen. I had to put it in water!

I slept with Ranger's rose next to me on the bedside table, the long stem poking precariously out of an extra large peanut butter jar. It deserved better but I didn't have a rose vase. Okay, I didn't have any vase.

Sleep played hard to get and I tossed like bacon bits in a pan, dozing, waking, punching my pillow down. Every time I opened my eyes, I saw the dim silhouette of the rose against the faint light coming through my drapes and smiled like a kid with an early Christmas present. There's nothing wrong with that, right? A friend gives you flowers, you get happy.

Sometime before dawn I was revisited by the dream I'd had the night after the conversation with Mary Lou. Again, I was perched high in the air above my mother's front yard. I still couldn't see what I was sitting on but I felt exhilarated and completely at ease. Faint cries below me from my mother and Mary Lou were drowned out by Bob's unhappy barks and whimpers. A long chain was attached to his collar and my mother threw it up to me. By reflex, I reached out to catch it, lost my balance and fell to the ground. My cry of pain and disappointment was echoed from above and my flying ride wheeled away, taking the sun with it. The sense of loss was unbearable.

The sound of my cell broke into the crushing sadness of my dream and I rolled out of the covers, glad to leave the bed and the dream behind. I stumbled into the kitchen with my eyes closed, finding the phone by feel.

Mary Lou was shrill in my ear. 'Holy Mary, mother of God! Is it true? Have you set a date? I can't believe it!'

'Can you keep it down? It's the crack of dawn, Lou, and I haven't had coffee.' I cracked my lids open and checked the time display on the microwave. Not even seven. Still the middle of the night by my reckoning.

'Sorry, I didn't think. I'm always up at six with the boys.' Another excellent reason to stick with hamsters. Mary Lou's voice dropped a couple of notches. 'So...when did you decide to do it? I mean, you didn't even mention marriage when we talked.'

'Well, you're the one who suggested that Joe and I needed to work out our problems.'

'Steph, I said you two needed to talk, and you really do, but getting married isn't how you work out your problems. Getting married is what you do after you've worked out your problems. If you're happy then I'm happy for you but...are you sure?'

'What kind of a question is that?'

'It's just...look, you said you had this...thing for, you know. For Ranger. Don't you think you need to be completely over that before you make this kind of commitment?'

'The thing for Ranger was going nowhere. I told you, he's not interested. So Joe and I talked things over and we're doing it. It's a done deal.'

'Okay, okay, sorry. I'll zip my lip but I'm here if you want to talk. And, Steph, I am happy for you. Really. If you're happy, I'm happy. Really, really happy. As long as you're sure.'

If my eyes had been awake I would have rolled them. 'I need to have coffee and a shower, Lou. I'll talk to you later.'

I hung up and blew out air. First, my dad and now, Lou. As if cold feet weren't inevitable, now they were sticking my feet in ice water.

I slumped against the counter, chin in my hands, staring at Rex's aquarium. I considered going back to bed but I didn't want to risk the dream again so I decided denial was the solution. I plugged in my land line and shuffled to the bathroom. The diamond ring was still next to the sink where I'd left it the night before, glinting at me in the early morning light. I stripped off my cotton boxers and tank and stepped under the water and stayed there until I was pruned.

As I had predicted, I spent the day fielding calls from all over the 'burg, three more from my mom, two from Grandma checking facts to spread around and one from Val, who wanted to organise a wedding shower. I was getting an eye-twitch and my gut was roiling. Only the sure knowledge that we'd be married before the date of the shower kept me from screaming. I was tempted to unplug the phone again but I figured I may as well get it over with. Stephanie Plum was officially being embraced back into the bosom of the 'burg.

Morelli managed to get through around eleven. His phone had been ringing non-stop as well and he wanted to let me know his mother was expecting us for dinner at six.

'Is she happy? Is Grandma Bella going to give me The Eye at dinner?' Morelli's mother and grandmother ran hot and cold with me so it was better to be prepared.

Morelli chuckled. 'My mother is very happy. She asked what you'd like for dinner and she wants you to wear her tiara for the ceremony. And you're safe from The Eye. Grandma Bella has already had a vision of three bambinos with curly black hair. All boys.'

Not great but, on balance, probably better than Italian voodoo causing all my girl parts to shrivel up. There was a long pause on the line and I could sense Morelli regrouping.

'Joe, what aren't you telling me?'

He took a big breath. 'There's no good way of saying this, so just stay calm, okay? Grandma Bella wants to give us an engagement celebration as part of her birthday festivities.'

The now-familiar sense of plummeting vertigo struck and I slithered down the wall to the floor, taking slow breaths. In four weeks' time – the weekend before our top secret wedding date – every single twig and bud on the Morelli family tree would descend on Trenton to celebrate Grandma Bella's eightieth birthday and the christening of the newest Morelli great grandchild. Now, it was going to include a Morelli engagement as well; my engagement.

'Joe – '

'I know, I know. It'll be okay, I promise. I've already told them we'd rather just announce it some time during her birthday party without making a deal about it. I've got your back, Cupcake. Don't panic.'

'Too late.'

I spent Sunday at Morelli's, fielding more phone calls and freaking out about the wedding so I had almost no free time to freak out about the Morelli family weekend and our wedding announcement.

Lucky, huhn?

oOo

I was greeted by shrieks of excitement from Connie and Lula as soon as I swung in the bond office door Monday morning. I'd spent time on hair and makeup to make sure I looked appropriately glowy for a newly-engaged Jersey girl. My hair floated in lazy curls down my back and I was wearing three coats of blue mascara and eyeliner and soft pink lipstick. The rest of me was in my regular uniform of jeans and t-shirt, with sneakers instead of boots because of the warm weather.

Connie dropped her donut in her hurry to grill me. 'Is it true? Have you set a date? When's the shower? Can I see the ring?'

'Yeah, show us the diamond, white girl. I been hearing it's five carats.'

I'd anticipated this request and had brought it with me. I scrabbled for it in my jeans pocket and pushed it onto my finger, wiggling it a little to get it over the knuckle. I held my hand out over the middle of Connie's desk and Lula and Connie leaned across it to coo over the sparkle.

'You know, when me and Tankie got engaged, Tank says I was too controlling, didn't give him room to do his thing. Next time, I'm gonna let my honeybear do it his own way. He's kinda macho that way. He needs to be in charge, you know what I'm saying?'

Connie snorted. 'Oh, I hear you. I'm Italian; I know all about that old-style masculine strength and insensitivity shit.'

'Tank's got sensitive parts. There's a spot just behind his – .'

Connie flapped her hands in front of her face. 'Lula, I don't want to know that! I want to be able to look Tank in the face next time he comes in to pick up a file.'

'Your loss. What I could teach you about a man's erogenous zones would take you a lifetime to learn on your own. But this here's a detour. Steph ain't given us any juicy details yet.'

Lula pushed the box of donuts across the desk towards me and I chose a jelly-filled. 'Okay, you got your donut, now tell us how Officer Hottie did it.'

Connie leaned in and picked up her half-finished donut. 'Yeah, spill. Did he get down on one knee? Was it a surprise? Did you cry?'

We were all chewing, elbows on the desk and huddled around the box with our heads just about touching. They'd done ogling the ring so I tried to wiggle it off but the jelly had made my finger sticky. I licked around the ring and tugged at it while I answered them.

'No, no, and no. We just talked things through and decided it was time to make some sensible decisions about our future.'

I looked up from the struggle with the ring to catch them staring at me like I'd killed their pet canary. Lula had frown lines all over her forehead.

' "A sensible decision about your future?" Man, that's cold! What about love and destiny and passion and all that shit? You s'posed to be all starry-eyed and fluttery and you sound like you organised a business lunch.'

'And why do you want to take off the ring? Don't you like it?' Connie's eyes were calculating, staring me down through narrowed lids.

'Sure I like it. It's just a little...loose. I don't want to lose it.'

The two of them exchanged a speaking look, right in front of my nose. Damned if I could understand what it said. Lula's penetrating gaze skewered me across six inches of desk.

'Oh, sure, I could tell it was real loose by the way you were trying to pry it off with your teeth. Maybe it ain't the ring, hm? Maybe it just come from the wrong man.'

I had my mouth open to deny something, anything, but the electric tingle made its way up my spine to settle at my nape at the same time as I noticed Lula and Connie's faces freeze up. Ranger had done it again; he was right behind me and none of us had seen him come in. I rewound the last few minutes to try to pinpoint when he'd opened the door but there was nothing. Maybe Lula's voice hadn't carried. Hope springs eternal.

I steadied myself, anticipating the heat of Ranger's hand settling on my neck but it didn't come and my shoulders slumped a little. Instead, he stepped to the side and leaned against the desk to my left opposite Connie, one ankle crossed over the other. He flicked his eyes over Connie and Lula – an eloquent Ranger morning greeting – then settled his gaze on me.

'Babe.'

'Ranger.'

Lula cut in. 'Welcome back, Batman. You sure do travel a lot. Don't you get tired of it? You ever think of settling down? Move outta the batcave into Wayne Manor? Get a dog...' Lula flicked a glance at me for a split second. '...or a hamster?'

I nearly collapsed. Connie gasped and took a hasty, involuntary step away from Lula as Ranger cut his eyes right, laser-beaming the suicidal idiot. She swallowed hard and turned pale under her chocolate skin while we relived the Ice Age in slow motion. Just as Lula was about to start gibbering, Ranger's eyes released her and turned to Connie.

'Tank said you have a file.' His voice was soft and scary.

Connie jumped to it, her voice little more than a squeak. 'I got it right here. Eric Bordhern.'

Lula staggered to the couch and sank. Connie pushed a fat folder across her desk towards Ranger. He flicked it open to sign the authorization, handed Connie the signed form and turned toward me, the front of his hips still leaning against the desk.

'I hear congratulations are in order.'

His eyes flicked to my left hand resting on the desk and then back to my eyes. The ring felt like a burning coal on my finger. Ranger's face remained expressionless, his eyes blank. There was no hint of the secret warmth I'd hoped for, the amused affection that sometimes lurked in the depths of his eyes or the corners of his mouth. My heart sank.

I nodded. 'Yep.'

'Have you set a date?'

'My mom is planning for spring.' I looked down at the toes of my sneakers so my eyes wouldn't broadcast that I had avoided answering the question.

He didn't move and I felt lasers boring holes into the top of my head. Nobody said anything and I'm not sure anybody breathed either. I looked up at Ranger and met his brown, Zen-calm eyes, which so carefully sealed away his thoughts while he read mine. His gaze held me and I couldn't look away.

Finally, he picked up the files. 'You should get the ring adjusted if it doesn't fit.'

I felt like I'd been slapped. He hadn't said anything wrong but, just like the night at his apartment, the implied was more significant than the spoken words. _You accepted his ring, now make it fit._

As soon as the door closed behind him, Lula sucked in air. 'Fuck me dead! He scared the snot outta me! He piped ice-water right into my veins. I like it better when he gives me a fever.'

Connie and Lula started blowing steam but I ignored them and followed Ranger out the door. I couldn't allow that to be the end of our conversation. Besides, this was my chance to bring up the rose and find out for certain if he'd actually given it to me. I'd thought about it over the weekend and, while I still hoped it was a gift from Ranger, I had a hinky feeling it was probably from a less welcome source.

'Ranger, wait!'

He'd opened the car door but at my call he stilled. For a heart-lurching moment I thought he might ignore me, get in the car, drive away from me but he turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. He closed the door and walked to the front of the Porsche, leaned his butt against the hood with arms folded and ankles crossed. I stopped about three feet from him and Ranger waited silently for me to have my say.

I stared into his flat, blank eyes, willing him to remove the mask, and found I had nothing to say. Bringing up the rose seemed so inadequate. Instead, the question had been eating at me since the night in his apartment burst out.

'Did you know? Were you planning to leave that night?'

He knew what I was asking. I saw his eyes flash momentarily, warm and intense, and just as quickly the shutters came down.

'No. I didn't know. That operation was scheduled for later in the week. I had no choice, Babe, it wasn't my call.'

'Were you playing me?'

This time the masked dropped and tenderness suffused his face. Instead of answering me, though, he took me by surprise.

'Why did you say yes?'

My heart stuttered. 'Because he asked me.'

'He's asked you before.'

'Well, this time it seemed the right thing to do.'

'Why?'

I stared at him as I considered how to formulate an honest answer but it was hard to explain how I'd got to this point. It didn't occur to me to lie or to shut him down. I sighed.

'I took a look at the unhealthy patterns of behavior in my life and decided it was time I made some sensible decisions.'

Ranger studied me for the longest time, his face unfathomable once more.

'It's what you want, Babe?'

I remembered the conversation with Mary Lou. 'Only kids think they can have everything they want, Ranger.'

Ranger's eyes narrowed as he assessed what I'd said, then he pushed himself off the hood and stepped closer so I had to look up to see the intensity of his eyes. He tucked a stray curl behind my ear, making my heart flutter with the affection in that familiar gesture.

'Babe, it depends on whether what you want is unreasonable.' He brushed his thumb over the corner of my mouth then brought it to his own to lick off the smear of jelly and sugar. 'Is what you want so unreasonable?'

My mouth dropped open. What did that mean? Did he mean us? Did he mean relationships in general? He didn't wait for an answer, which was just as well because it would take me a while to work it out. I watched the Porsche until he rounded a corner before I turned back to the office.

oOo

'Am I gonna die?' Lula wanted reassurance as soon as I walked in. 'Ranger wouldn't kill me over this, would he? He knows I was kidding, right?'

Connie snorted at her. 'Might not come to that. He might just ship you out to Mongolia. Hope you got warm clothes. "Get a hamster." Your sense of humour's a real high wire act, you know that? And Ranger doesn't have a sense of humour.'

'He does,' I cut in. 'You just have to get him in the right mood.'

A wicked glint rose in Lula's eyes. 'Yeah, I guess you know all about getting Batman in the right mood. Was he in the right mood outside?'

Connie snickered. 'He didn't drag her down the alley so maybe not.' The two of them cackled and shared another speaking look, which I translated pretty accurately for a change. This was getting annoying.

'Enough already from the peanut gallery. You two can stop second-guessing my life because I'm getting married. Didn't you get the memo?'

'Girl, I ain't got nothing against Officer Hottie but I've seen you and Ranger prowling around each other. Your eyes lock, the air starts to heat up and it feels like I'm at a triple-X peep show.'

Connie tag-teamed. 'And then there was how you crumbled like a crushed cookie when he was shot by Scrogg. You practically lived in his hospital room.'

'That hot hunk of man looks after you like you his most precious secret. Wake up and smell the coffee, white girl!'

I looked from one to the other with my jaw hanging open. 'I can't believe you two! I'm engaged! See?'

I held up my left hand to wave in front of them, having forgotten that I'd stuffed the ring in my pocket before chasing Ranger out the door. They stared back at me with pity-filled eyes, like I'd just expressed an undying faith in Santa Claus. I shoved my hand in my pocket and sniffed.

'I'm not used to having anything on my hand, that's all. Look, I don't have all day to sit around, I need to work. Any new skips for me?'

Connie reached behind her. 'Two. Mario Buzo, a peeping Tom exhibitionist, and Buddy Hoffmeier. Buddy's an odd bird. He's a yoga nut who walks dogs. He beat up the owner of one of his clients with a dog chain because the guy left the dog without water all day.'

I looked through the file. Buddy looked slender, mellow and vaguely familiar. I had a feeling I'd seen him at one of Mooner and Dougie's events. 'He doesn't look dangerous. Has he ever beat up on anyone before?'

'Nope. First offence, no history of violence. He says he was outraged by how the dog was treated and he snapped.'

'Good enough.' I grabbed the files, picked up my bag and made for the door.

'Woah, Kemosabi. You ain't leavin' without Tonto!' Lula hustled to get her bag from the couch.

'Relax, Lula. I'm not going after either of them this morning. Joe and I've got an appointment with Father Gabriel in half an hour to start all the wedding stuff. I'll be back when I'm done and we can go after the bad guys.'

Lula dropped her bag back on the couch and slumped next to it. 'Guess I'll make a dent in the filing while you're gone.'

'Now, there's a novel idea.' Connie dumped a pile of folders on her desk. 'Here, you can start on these.'

Lula looked sour. I gave them both a little finger wave and headed off to the church.

_TBC_

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_All reviews gratefully accepted. Feedback is nourishment...please feed me._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: This chapter is re-written (as of 7 September 2009) because I made a fatal error – I got carried away with an idea and veered the story off-track from my original plan. And I like my original plan. I want to stick with my original plan. The changes herein are subtle but they change the tone and ultimate resolution of the chapter. I apologise to anyone who feels put out by the changes but if I had not made them, I believe I would not have been able to finish the story at all. Now I'm back in the saddle and intend to see it through to the end. I hope I can count on your understanding.**

I am using the wonderful characters created by Janet Evanovich, without permission. I derive no profit from their use, other than the gratification of playing with them.

With grateful thanks to Dee and JannyB whose advice and feedback has been invaluable. A special thank you to Magdalync who encouraged me to follow my muse wheresoever he taketh me.

I'm also grateful for every review and PM; feedback is so important! I think (hope) I've responded to every one individually; if I haven't, it was an oversight and I apologise.

Warning that there's lots of bad language in this chapter; Ranger swears like a trooper in his own head.

This is written from Ranger's POV, btw (you'd probably work that out yourself, but just in case).

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**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 12: Sucking it up**

_Well, that went fucking great, Manoso._ I banged my head back against the headrest a couple times. _The conversation with Stephanie resolved exactly nada and yet again, you walk way with a boner._

Stephanie was leaning over Connie's desk with her back to me when I walked in, long legs and that spectacular ass outlined by tight denim. Instant hard on.

I adjusted my crotch before starting the car. Yeah, Stephanie has me under total control. How the hell did she get under my skin like this? It's like she has a master switch I don't have access to that gives her the power to override all my controls.

_Flick._ Engage protective instincts_. Flick._ Desire on full throttle. _Flick._ Up the tenderness. _Flick._ Turn off logic. _Flick._ Rev up fascination. _Flick. _Activate love. She has all the power. I remember the shock the first time I felt the jolt in my gut at the sound of her voice and realized it was joy.

Before Stephanie, I never would have believed a woman could do that to me, and there have been a lot of women. Not now. Not for a long time. After Stiva took her, when I thought I'd lost her, it changed things. Picking up a woman was easy – they practically dragged off my pants and begged – but it was like trying to slake thirst with salt water. I don't want another woman. Only a long, sweet drink of Stephanie will do. It's ironic that it's taken this to make me realize I'm committed to her.

Out of habit, my mind turned to regaining focus as I drove back to base. It was a mistake to go to the bonds office this morning. I should have sent Tank. Would have been better for both of us to bide my time so I could talk to her in private. Couldn't help myself; had to hear it from her mouth to believe it.

I mean, what the fuck? Saturday night she was mine. For the first time, Stephanie reached out to take what she wanted. She couldn't have made it clearer she wanted me if she'd typed it out in triplicate and signed it. Not even a week later and she's engaged to the cop.

I punched the car roof above my head. Shit. Shouldn't have done that; pointless emotional outburst that probably dented the roof. Stupid, and I haven't done stupid in a long time.

If that damned operation hadn't forced me to leave her before we sealed the deal she might not have run back to the safety of the 'burg cop. _And then what, Manoso? Did you think about the morning after?_ Fuck.

I punched the roof again. See what I mean? Just thinking about her short-circuits my control.

By the time I parked at Rangeman my discipline was back in place. Calm and alert. Focused. I checked the roof when I got out of the car and saw the small deformation in the black finish above the driver's seat. I shook my head slightly. I took the stairs to the fifth and walked through the low hum of the men's voices to my office. They nodded acknowledgment as I walked by, my presence creating a wave of silence through the chatter. That was normal but the level of tension in the room was higher than usual – the news about the engagement had made the rounds.

I stuck my head into Tank's office. He'd told me the news this morning, actually coming to the apartment rather than waiting for me to come down to the control room. He'd hardly been able to look me in the face. He knew I wanted to pick up the FTA file myself to have an excuse to see Stephanie. Sometimes a good friend is a pain in the ass.

His eyes were wary when he looked up. 'Everything okay, boss?'

I knew what he was asking but I ignored it. I don't do Hallmark moments. 'Get one of the men to take the Turbo down to Al's body shop. There's a dent in the roof above the driver's seat.'

Tank watched me for a beat before nodding assent.

I crossed the hall to my office and threw the Bordhern file on my desk. Easing back into the chair, I logged on to the system to send Binky the request for a background check and started to read the file. Half an hour later, the file was still open to the first page and I'd taken in nothing. My concentration was shot.

I glanced over at my in-tray. Three client contracts to go over, a handful of field reports, correspondence and the financials from Miami. Experience dictated the best way to gain clarity was to work my body hard so I shut down the computer and headed up to seven to change.

My mind steered back to the exchange in the bonds office. Being rebuked by Lula was bizarre but I had to give her credit for having the balls to do it. Her smart-ass suggestion that I should settle down with Rex made me smile in the privacy of the elevator. Despite Morelli's involvement, I'm sure Lula's not the only one speculating about Stephanie and me. My men assume she's my woman. For a long time now the streets have assumed it, too.

And therein lies the rub. Belonging to me is a dangerous business. It was a fact I live with and mitigate by minimizing my personal ties. There are a lot of people who would get their jollies by bringing me down and hurting those I love is the surest way to do it. When Scrog kidnapped Julie and then took Stephanie, the possibility became fact. It wrenched my gut. And Scrog was small fry.

A pile of laundry obstructed the foyer when I opened the apartment door and Ella poked her head out of the kitchen to smile at me.

'Come on in, Ranger. I'm done in the bedroom and bathroom. I'm just finishing up in the kitchen.'

'No problem. I just need to change clothes.'

'Can you leave your laundry out here when you're changed? I don't want you to mess up the bathroom again.'

I almost smiled. Ella and Stephanie are the only women I'm not related to who consistently respond to me without fear.

'Sure.'

Ella nodded her approval over her shoulder and went back into the kitchen. I stepped around the laundry pile to get to my bedroom, changed into work-out clothes and got out of her hair.

The men like to work out before or after their shifts so at mid-morning the gym was empty. Unless I called down someone I didn't have the option of a face-off on the mat. There was no one on the shit-list right now so I settled for a krav maga workout. The hybrid mix of yoga, martial arts and dirty street fighting was adopted by many covert units a while back and I incorporated it into my training regime. It would work me hard and concentrate the mind. I stripped down and moved into it.

Lula's statement about the ring coming from the wrong man kept jabbing at the edges of my concentration. I've known for a long time that Stephanie wanted me but I had no certainty that she felt more. She dreams about me. Does that count? I both hope for it and dread it.

Did she really want the ring, the suburban house, kids, barbecues with the neighbors, Little League on the weekends? It would explain why she accepted the cop. She knows I can't give her that kind of regulated life. Not without becoming someone else.

The danger that comes with my job is a self-evident obstacle – keeping her safe had become almost an obsession – but the real problem is me. Who I am. There's a reason I'm a mercenary; I need the adrenaline rush of living on the edge. It provides me with a way to live that gives me a level of satisfaction and stops me going nuts. I could do the ordinary guy thing for a while, for her, but I know the walls would close in eventually and I don't want to hurt her. I told Stephanie once that maybe I was sick, mentally, emotionally, sexually. There was some truth in that.

Being the government's hired gun means I go when I'm called and there's no guarantee I'll come back alive. I signed the contract; my life is forfeit. That's no kind of life to offer a woman. I won't do it, leave her behind time and again, not knowing whether I'll come back to her. I won't make her a promise I can't keep.

I love her. Known that for…shit, I don't know how long. Maybe since I rescued her, handcuffed naked to her shower rail. I wanted to fuck her so bad after that night. I didn't though. She was better than a hit and run fuck. She fascinated me, surprised me. I wanted more. I can't put my finger on when it became love but after Stiva, I knew. I couldn't kid myself any longer.

Stephanie thinks I used her as a piece of ass, played her. That's the accusation she threw in my face. The words she used still burned: _'You had a little itch, you scratched it and then you were done. I paid up; you moved on.'_

Moved on? I have never been in so deep! The injustice of it pissed me off so much I snapped. I just had to show her, didn't I? Prove that I'd been holding back, make her admit she had the power. Eres un culo grande, Manoso. _[You are such an ass, Manoso.]_ It was unmanly and she deserved better.

That deal was the stupidest thing I ever did and a measure of how desperate I was. I was burning for her, and she wanted me, yet the reality of sleeping with me seemed to scare the piss out of her. So I thought I'd plant a little seed. Exert some pressure. I didn't intend to collect but that night she needed that physical comfort.

Dios! Making love with Stephanie was like nothing I'd imagined. It wasn't sex; it was a fever, a drug. Como busca el agua a la sed! _[Like water seeks out thirst!]_

I had no fucking idea of how to handle it so I ran. But I came back. It was weak, selfish of me, giving in to what I wanted rather than what was right. I offered her everything I could, told her there was no price I wouldn't pay for her; Stephanie turned me down flat. Said she couldn't do it. I wasn't surprised, I knew what I offered wasn't near enough. Still hurt like a bitch.

One mistake after another. I keep tripping over myself.

I don't know whether it's in me to offer her anything more. My survival depends on self-sufficiency and I've been ruthless in training myself to that goal. Reliance on anything external is a weakness. The thought of losing autonomy and control, allowing vulnerability, induces panic. And the idea of being answerable to anyone is intolerable to me. I don't know whether I can let anyone in, now. My marriage to Rachel wasn't a choice and we both knew it would end in divorce after the baby was born but Rachel was lucky to get out. I've seen what happens to women who tie themselves to men like me.

Yet for months I've had flashes of having a future with Stephanie. My mind wanders in a meeting, or during meditation, in a half-dream at night, and I imagine waking up to her smile. Soothing her hurts. Watching her blossom. Living together each day and sharing the night. Making her happy. Permanently entwining her life with mine.

_Crazy thoughts, Manoso._ Stephanie agreed to marry the cop. She made the decision and I should be happy for her. I shouldn't muddy the waters.

I still can't figure why she accepted him. When I asked, her answer was so flat: because it seemed the right thing to do. Like a duty or obligation. Not because she loves him, or because she wants to spend her life with him. There was no passion in her answer. I could be happy for her if I saw she was happy but she's not. I saw it in her beautiful eyes.

I can't accept that Stephanie wants a 'burg life, the picket fence, the PTA, that housewife shit. She keeps running back to Morelli, trying to shape herself into a mold that doesn't fit, and it diminishes her. It's so fucked up; I don't know why she keeps going back to him, back to his bed. It kills me to watch. And I did this. I sent her back to him so he could give her what I can't but he just cuts her down.

A muscle spasmed in my jaw and consciously I unclenched it. Yeah, I love her. I have no fucking idea what to do about it, though.

My watch alarm beeped, reminding me I was supposed to be in a meditative state. Shit. I had no fucking control of my head. I'd have to punch something. I rolled out of savasana* to pull on gloves and started in on the boxing bag. Just as well I hadn't called down one of the men. Beating up on employees is bad for morale.

'You're hitting that bag like it owes you money, boss.' I looked over at Santos' smirking face. Hadn't noticed him come in and that pissed me off.

'You need something, Lester?'

He shrugged. 'I usually spar with Hal but his shoulder's not up to it yet. Thought you might want some live action.'

'Not today.' I wasn't sure I'd be able to control myself today and I didn't want to hurt him.

He shrugged again and measured me for a moment. 'Heard about Steph. Blew me away, man.'

Was that sympathy in his voice? I shook my head. He must have a death wish.

'Santos,' I warned.

'Hey, I'm just saying. I didn't think she'd end up with the cop, that's all. I thought you two were...you know...'

What the fuck? He knows this subject is off limits. Santos never will learn to keep his mouth shut. I stripped off the gloves and called him over; maybe I did want to hurt him a little. 'On the mat. No gear.'

'Oh, shit,' he muttered.

An hour later Santos hobbled to the change room with an ice pack on his face and I went upstairs to shower. I'd risk Ella's displeasure by messing up the bathroom again. I felt good, clearer and calmer than at any time since I'd come back from Philly.

I headed back down to five, making a point to check on the men at their stations before hitting the paperwork. A few of them almost jumped out of their skin when I asked them to report. Maybe I was radiating more tension than I realized.

I got through a couple hours of steady work and felt relieved to get it off my desk. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I'd missed lunch so I picked up a couple of sandwiches from the kitchen to eat while I went over the Bordhern file properly. He was an evil fuck and I was glad Connie had waited for me to come back rather than giving his file to Stephanie.

Not for the first time, I considered how to convince Stephanie to take on some serious self-defense and weapons training. It would help her feel more competent, build her shaky self-esteem and add years to my life by way of heart attack prevention. I tried a lot of strategies over the years to coax her and they always failed. She has a mind of her own. She's incredible. Her stubborn independence awes me even while it makes me ten different kinds of crazy.

A knock at the door recalled my mind to the job. 'Enter.'

Binky appeared with the background search I'd asked for and dropped it on the desk.

'Thanks,' I dismissed him and started to flip through the new data.

'Anything else I can do for you, boss?' I looked up, surprised. My men are inculcated with respect for the chain of command so they rarely break ranks.

'No.'

Binky remained standing in front of my desk, looking like he was about to shit himself. What now? He cleared his throat and looked right in my eyes.

'Surprising news about Ms Plum, sir.'

All those years of training came to my rescue to prevent my chin from hitting the desk. This was fucking unbelievable! Was every man in my employ sticking his nose in? I swear to God, I was starting to think there was a conspiracy to yank my chain. I stared him down until his balls shriveled and he backed out with his hands covering his crotch.

The door clicked shut and I shook my head. My fine body of men was gossiping like a bunch of old women. They all care about Stephanie; a couple are half in love with her and the rest treat her like a precocious little sister. They were losing her, too, and it was making them a little crazy.

She'd made me completely _loco _[crazy] on Saturday, deliberately baited me the whole afternoon. Then she turned up at my door in that ridiculous dress that emphasized her hourglass curves and those long, shapely legs, the sheen of sweat on her skin, those deep blues eyes stabbing me; ready to fight me or fuck me. It was like standing six inches from the midday sun and just the memory is giving me a hard-on. I shifted in my chair to re-arrange myself.

Fuck! How do we twist each other around like this? I sprang out of my chair, too twitchy to sit, and paced in front of the door as I ran her words through again. That I never talk to her; that I play her like a fish on a line; that I don't give a shit about how I affect her.

How is it possible that she had no fucking idea how much she complicates _my _life and messes with _my _emotions and fucks with _my _head? She's the centre of my fucking universe! Everything I have to give, I give her. I show her I love her in every way I know and she still calls me a self-centred, emotionless, uncommunicative dick. How the fuck is that supposed to work?

I stopped in my tracks and punched the door in frustration. I couldn't stop. Bam! Bam! I kept punching and kicking until my knuckles were bleeding and I'd wrecked the door. Fuck! _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

I slid down the wall to the carpet, leaned elbows on knees. This cannot continue. I need to get a grip, make a decision.

Tank stuck his head around the broken door hanging off its hinges, assessing the damage before landing his eyes on me. He looked ready to run. I glared at him, daring him to give me an excuse to take him on but he shook his head.

'Carlos, you gotta do something, man. You can't function and you're scaring the crap out of the men.'

Tonto del culo! _[Half-assed idiot!]_ If I knew what the fuck to do, I'd be doing it.

I growled at him. 'Shut the fuck up, Tank, and get out of my face.' His jaw tightened and he shook his head again.

I got up and shoved past him to the washroom through the eerie silence of the control room. I locked myself in to clean up my hands, stuck my head under the cold tap then stared at my face in the mirror. A hard man stared back at me, jaw set, eyes holding something angry and brittle. I needed to get out of the office, disperse the aggression and get back in control. Time for some field inspections.

Hector and Lester were scoping a new security contract in a club downtown. I'd started partnering them for these jobs, counterbalancing Hector's menace and lack of English with Lester's social skills. It seemed to work. The two men were looking over the floor plans in the manager's office. Lester's facial bruises from our encounter were blooming and he had evidently shared the story of how he'd got them with his partner.

Hector looked over at me and his nose wrinkled like he'd got a whiff of something nasty. 'Usted deja que tu monada ir? Eres un imbécil!' _[You let your sweet babe go? You're a moron!]_

I caught Lester out of the corner of my eye, nodding agreement. Fucking coward was hiding behind Hector. Hector can't be intimidated and I brush off the occasional liberties he takes but I was in no mood for his cajones [machismo]. I glowered at them. Lester took a step back.

'No me jodas, Hector.' _[Don't fuck with me, Hector.]_

'Haz algo, hombre. Ella te ama.' _[Do something, man. She loves you.]_

Fuck! What the hell would he know about how Stephanie feels, what she needs? He either couldn't see how close I was to snapping or he didn't care. A firestorm in Afghanistan had been easier than dealing with these hen-peckers on my payroll.

I gave him one last warning, pushing him backwards with a hand to the middle of his chest. 'Déjalo! Esta no es su negocio.' _[Leave it alone! This is not your business.]_

Hector looked at me steadily, ignoring the escalation. 'Usted arrepentirá de esto.' _[You'll regret this.]_

Regret. He had no idea. I was also itching to rearrange someone's face but I knew once I started I wouldn't be able to stop. Better retreat before this turned into a slaughter. I went back to the car, my hands shaking, and ransacked my relaxation techniques to find some control.

What the fuck did they expect me to do? Stephanie is not the kind of woman who will give in to pressure. She can't be forced. Confrontation doesn't work. Bluffing her doesn't work. Overpowering her doesn't work. Stephanie is her own woman; give her information and open alternatives and she always, always, makes the right decision; make any attempt to control her and her instinct is to dig in her heels out of sheer stubbornness.

And, even if I had any power to influence her, in what direction would I push? What the fuck do I want? I sprang out of the car and slammed the door, pounded my fists against the roof. I stared across the blacktop of the empty parking lot.

_Think, Manoso. You're a strategist, a tactician. Get your mind into gear. Break down the objectives. Outline a plan. Make a decision. What do you want?_ I took a slow, deep breath and let it out, feeling the tension drain from my body as my mind shed the dross and shifted into hard calculation.

I don't want her to marry Morelli. I won't stand by without a fight and let him break her spirit. I want her. I want Stephanie to choose me. I want to make a life with her. I want to make her happy.

I have to figure out how.

First, I need to know whether she loves me. I know she wants me but if she doesn't love me enough, if she doesn't want a life with me, I'm lost. My heart clenched at that thought and I pushed it away. Emotion is a distraction.

Second, I need to know what she needs to be happy. I don't believe she needs or wants the whole 'burg catastrophe. I know that's not Stephanie. But how far is she willing to bend? What does she need?

Third, I need to work out how I'm going to meet those needs. God knows I want to but I have to do it within the constraints of my obligations and my personal limitations. I told Stephanie this morning that what she wants is reasonable and I need to make that true. I'll make damned sure that if she reaches for me, I'll be there, body and soul.

I shook my head. Too much unproductive emotion. Still not thinking clearly and I have a feeling I've overlooked something. I need to stay away from her long enough to clear my head and make sure this plan is clean, all angles covered, without emotion or desire getting in the way. I have to be sure this is best for Stephanie. I have to be sure that I can deliver on what I promise.

Besides, I need to give her space so her gut, her spidey-sense, leads her to the right decision. I know she responds physically to me in the same way I respond to her. I have to back off, give her time and space to discover for herself that I am the man for the woman she wants to be.

I got back in the car and started up. I shook my head; no physical contact. No kisses, no caresses, no innuendo. Tank would have to tie me up to keep me on the straight and narrow. Stephanie said they were planning a spring wedding; I'd be damned if I allowed Morelli to stay in her bed that long.

By the time I got back the men were changing shifts. They scuttled around me like cockroaches in the light, careful to avoid meeting my eyes. I was going to have to give them Ella's cookies tomorrow.

I stepped into Tank's office and he looked up, his eyes guarded. Probably wondering if I'd demolish any other parts of the building or work my way through the men instead. I leaned a shoulder against his doorjamb, arms folded across my chest and face relaxed.

'Got plans for tonight?'

Tank's face softened instantly and he clamped his mouth to fight a grin. 'Lula.'

I felt a muscle at the corner of my mouth quiver. Tank had it bad.

'Got time for a beer upstairs before you go?'

Tank's eyes sharpened, assessing the implications. 'Sure. I'm just cleaning up. I'll be there in five.'

oOo

'Carlos, you're making a mistake.'

I didn't answer, just fixed my eyes on him, unmoving.

Tank scrunched up his face. 'She's gonna take this the wrong way, man.'

'It won't be for long and I'll make sure she doesn't.'

He dropped his head onto the back of the couch. 'Lula's gonna give me hell when she finds out.'

'Then don't tell her.' I allowed myself a full grin and his face finally relaxed.

Tank chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. 'Shit, Carlos. When do I take over?'

'Right now. But if she needs me, you call me stat. Otherwise, it's all you. She's your number one priority.'

Tank nodded once, affirmative. He finished his beer, left the empty on the table and went back to the control room to put my orders into play before going home to his woman.

I took a deep breath and let my head rest back in the armchair. Now that I had a goal, a plan of action, a lot of the tension and anger had dissipated and my thoughts were sharp and clear. I sucked down the rest of my beer and put the bottle on the floor.

I walked over to the shelves in the living room, picked up a sleek, enameled Japanese box and took it back to the chair. It was purely decorative, empty except for one photo that I'd placed in there for safe-keeping. It was of Stephanie and me, taken by one of the guys – probably Hal, he's always got a camera on him somewhere.

It was taken after one of her cars blew up and we stood in close contact, facing each other with the vehicle on fire behind us. I was tucking a curl of her wild hair behind her ear and she had one hand resting on my chest, the other at my hip, both of us smiling, our eyes locked. My face was open; she's the only one who ever sees that face. In the midst of the inferno, Hal had caught an intimate moment and she was so beautiful, even disheveled and with dirt on her face.

I studied the photo and hoped to God that I was right. There was still the minefield of my government obligations to deal with but there was no other woman for me and I'd bust a gut to make it work for us. If I did this right, if she loved me, she'd listen to her instincts and choose me.

That's the thing. I want Stephanie to _choose me._ It would be easy to seduce her but I don't want to. I don't want any question in her mind or in her heart. I want her to see me clearly and choose me freely. I'll work for it and bend for her, as much as I can without breaking, but she's going to have to bend as well. It would be an unconventional life. If she loves me.

I considered calling the realtor in the morning to start the search for a batcave; the lake house was too rustic and too far away from a mall for Stephanie to enjoy it. If and when the time came, we'd do it together.

The conversation in the car a week ago about whether she had anything at stake had come back to bite me in the ass. Now I was putting everything in me on the line. No more backing away from her.

My cell rang and I answered automatically. 'Yo.'

'How's it going, tough guy?' I hadn't heard that soft voice in almost a year but I recognized it instantly and smiled.

'Evie! How's my favorite girl?' I settled back into the cushions, still studying the photo.

'Watch yourself, Manoso. Jethro will be climbing outta his grave to slap you upside the head.'

I grinned into the phone. Standard wisecrack, standard response. Slaps upside the head had been Jethro's specialty until I taught him better manners. 'You visiting? I can make time.'

'Nope. I've been Stateside for a couple months now. Pentagon needed a profiler with mission experience. Back in Washington with Isaac.'

'How is that godson of mine? Must be in third grade by now. He's got to be raising hell.'

Evie laughed. 'Hey, I've had genetic input as well as his dad! Isaac's the spitting image of Jethro, though.'

I smiled, trying to picture what the kid looked like now; it had been five years since I'd seen him. Since Jethro's funeral at Arlington.

'So what's going on with you, Carlos?'

Something about her tone made all the pieces fall into place. I shook my head in disbelief. Tank had called in back up.

'When did he call you, Evie?

'Late afternoon. He said you'd run off most of your men if you didn't get it together. Told me you're in love with a woman named Stephanie who has decided to marry some other guy 'cause you've been dragging your heels. He said if you didn't get your head outta your ass, she'll do it and you'll crash and burn.'

'I'm going to kill him.'

'No, you're not. You're going to talk to me, Carlos, and then you're going to listen to me.'

'Is that so? You talk tough on the phone, Evie. It's a turn-on.'

'Yeah, well, distance gives me courage. But I'm serious, Carlos. If you want her, you need to let her in. I can help you.'

I thought about it. Evie had lived through the flip-side of my particular nightmare and she was the best profiler I'd ever worked with. Maybe she could give me a handle on it. Her perspective couldn't hurt. It was going to be a long phone call. I got another beer and settled into the couch.

_TBC_

_---_

_Feedback is nourishment; please keep me fed. Criticism is as welcome as praise (see how I did that? Assumed there would be praise? LOL!)_


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **The **previous chapter was re-written and re-posted on 7 September 2009** because I made a fatal error – I got carried away with an idea and veered the story off-track from my original plan. And I like my original plan. I want to stick with my original plan. The changes are subtle but they change the tone and ultimate resolution of the chapter. I apologise to anyone who feels put out by the changes but if I had not made them, I believe I would not have been able to finish the story at all. Now I'm back in the saddle and intend to see it through to the end. I hope I can count on your understanding.

I am using the wonderful characters created by Janet Evanovich, without permission. I derive no profit from their use, other than the gratification of playing with them.

With grateful thanks to **Dee** and **JannyB** whose advice and feedback has been invaluable. A special thank you to **Magdalync** who, in the previous chapter, encouraged me to follow my muse wheresoever he taketh me.

I'm also grateful for every review and PM; feedback is so important!

--------------------------

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 13: Opening up**

The day had started well. Paco Lopez was in Trenton to see Ranger about on-going personal security for Andy so he'd called me to see if we could get together while he was in town. Paco was great company and I looked forward to seeing him.

He waved me over as soon as I stepped in the door of the diner and his smile was dazzling. Paco had a face made to smile and I could feel my own split in two in mirror image. He stood to give me a full body hug worthy of a long lost friend.

'You look great! And you're not even in candy stripes.' He waggled his eyebrows up and down, imitating Groucho Marx.

I nudged his shoulder, giggling, and sat. 'How's Andy doing?'

Paco's smile faded. 'Nightmares. And he really misses his mom. Alicia is a couple chocolates short of the box but she's a good mother; maybe too indulgent but she always put Andy first.'

'What does the counsellor say?'

Paco sighed. 'Time. It's been just over a week. He needs lots of love and support. I have to coax him gently to talk about it. She suggested we go to the beach – slowly introduce him back to the scene of the action to dispel the bad associations. He'll be okay, I'll make sure of it.'

His mouth had a determined line and his dark eyes were sharp. I realized that behind Paco's boyish facade there was a lot of quiet strength.

I nodded and we both smiled and picked up a menu. Morelli had nagged me into putting the ring back on my finger and the glitter of the diamond caught Paco's eye. He whistled and reached across the table to take my left hand.

'Wow! That wasn't there ten days ago.' He looked back up at me and grinned. 'Congratulations.'

'Thanks.' He let go of my hand and I dropped it into my lap. I twiddled my fingers under the table; the ring still felt foreign.

'Damn. So you're officially taken. Just my luck.' He gave me a lopsided grin but his eyes told me he wasn't entirely joking. It was gratifying and I smiled back at him.

'I guess I'm not surprised.' He answered my questioning look. 'I mean, you were both very professional but it was obvious you had something going on.'

I frowned. I was sure Morelli's name hadn't come up between us that whole day at the beach.

Paco chuckled. 'Well, you can't hide that kind of spark. You know, the way you looked at each other and moved around each other; like circling your territory. The way you talked about him. Actually, that's what kept me in line when we were putting on the show for Alicia. I didn't want Manoso to kill me.' He grinned.

The proverbial light bulb flashed on in my head and a deep flush rose all the way to the roots of my hair. 'Oh. No. I'm not engaged to Ranger. We don't have that kind of relationship. We're just...friends. We work together. He's my boss, in fact. There's no romantic involvement.'

Paco's forehead creased, the confusion blatant on his face. I felt compelled to explain. 'There was a romantic involvement, once, a while ago, but nothing came of it. Ranger wasn't interested in commitment. He still isn't interested in commitment. So friendship and a whole lot of chemistry is what we've got now.'

'Okay.' Paco's face was careful and there was an awkward pause while he worked out whether to take it further. 'So who's the guy?'

'Joe Morelli. He's a Trenton cop.'

Paco pursed his lips and nodded. He studied his menu and I followed his lead. 'Joe's okay about your friendship with Ranger?'

I looked up and met two shrewd, dark eyes assessing me. 'Paco, I really enjoy your company and I'd like us to be friends but this isn't any of your business.'

He shrugged. 'Okay. But if my fiance was looking at another man like that, I'd be seriously reconsidering my future plans.'

He looked at me without the hint of a smile. My insides felt wobby. I wondered what Paco could possibly have observed during the brief time he'd seen me with Ranger to have fixed that impression upon him so profoundly. I was willing to concede my feelings were probably tattooed across my forehead but I knew for a fact that Ranger wasn't feeling anything.

The waitress came to take our order so the subject of my engagement dropped like a lead balloon. Paco smiled up at her. 'I don't suppose I could have the full country breakfast? The menu says you only serve it on weekends but it sounds fantastic.'

That boyish charm had her; she smiled indulgently. 'How about I have a word to the cook and see what I can do?'

She turned to me, still smiling. 'How about you? Should I double the order?'

I shook my head. Our conversation had caused my appetite to evaporate. 'No, I'll just have coffee and a cinnamon roll.'

Paco was concerned. 'You said you love the breakfasts here. You not feeling well?'

'Not much of an appetite. So Grandma says you're taking on her calendar.'

I filled him in, trying to be as tactful as I could. Our breakfasts arrived and Paco attacked his plate of eggs benedict, bacon, sausage, fried mushrooms, spinach, tomatoes and biscuits. I nibbled on my cinnamon roll.

'A nude calendar? That's pretty brave for women in their seventies and eighties.' He chewed for a moment, thinking. 'It's a challenge but I think I could do it as in-your-face portraiture. I'm thinking black and white. It could work.' He nodded to himself.

'Not just nude; Grandma wants to wear leather. I think her concept is more...whips, handcuffs and dungeons.'

Paco froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. Then he chuckled. 'You almost had me.'

I shook my head. 'Not joking.'

He paled. 'Shit!'

I nodded and fiddled with my cinnamon roll, letting him eat in silence for a while. He needed some time to deal with the shock. Hey, I'm having trouble getting my head around it and I've seen Grandma in a Madonna cone bra and feathers.

'I'm supposed to meet with your Grandma and her friends next week. Maybe I shouldn't. I could give her an excuse.'

'I warn you, she'll hunt you down. You're better off facing up and saying no straight out.'

Paco groaned and leaned back in his chair. He picked up his coffee cup, thinking hard. 'No. I'll meet them. I'll see if I can swing them in the direction I'd like to go.'

Paco Lopez is a very brave man.

I smiled at him and he gave me a determined look. I promised to go with him to the calendar girls meeting and he walked me out to my car. We hugged goodbye, I drove off and my day proceeded to go pear-shaped.

Blame it on Mario Buzo.

oOo

'Going up, dear?' I nodded and Mrs Bestler stepped aside so I could shuffle in to lean against the back wall of the elevator. I needed to lean. Mario led me on a rollercoaster ride through Trenton before I caught up with him in a diner on Clinton Avenue. I'd prefer to skip over the part where we knocked over three tables, tripped up the manager and spilled coffee over customers. Actually, I'd prefer to skip over the whole thing and go straight to where Connie handed over the check but that wouldn't explain my need to lean.

Mario's pecker was giving a matinee performance in the bathroom and the manager of the diner was voicing his objections when I walked in. Mario took off again like he had an engine in his pants so I chased him five blocks, climbed over three fences, dodged through an obstacle course of garbage bins and tackled him to the ground.

My car was five blocks away and I had lost my handcuffs and stun gun somewhere between Hamilton and Greenwood. Mario wasn't feeling cooperative. I dragged him by his belt every step of the way while he flashed his woody at passing females. He refused to put it away but he did invite me to do it for him – like that was going to happen this side of hell.

God knows how he managed it but Mario stayed at full mast all the way to the station. He sat in the back seat of my open roof Mustang and admired himself; at stop lights, he invited pedestrians to admire him, too. Every cop on duty came to enjoy the Stephanie show while the desk sergeant processed Mario and Big Dog won the Stephanie pay-off for the week.

Joe came into the station just as I was leaving. He must have heard the story on the radio, or maybe someone called him, because he looked resigned. He just shook his head at me with his hands on his hips and asked how I managed to find the crazies. I shrugged and walked back out to my car. I felt deflated and I had a feeling we'd be debriefing later.

'Second floor, cosmetics, jewellery and ladies' perfumes.' The elevator doors opened and I shuffled out.

'Have a nice evening, dear. Treat yourself to something special; you look like you deserve some pampering.'

'Thanks Mrs Bestler; I think I will.'

I headed straight to the kitchen and checked the fridge for beer but the beer fairy hadn't visited. Joe would probably bring some with the pizza but he wasn't arriving until late. He and Gina had another taskforce meeting in Newark at the end of the day.

I sighed and pulled out a bottle of water. The shavings in Rex's ranchero shifted and he twitched his nose expectantly. I gave him the last baby carrot and some hamster pellets. He was still on a health diet and I had no other fruit or vegetable in the apartment, bar some green stuff in the crisper that was taking Darwin's theory of evolution personally.

'Sorry, little guy; I need to do grocery shopping.' He took the carrot and vanished into his soup can. I think he was grateful but it's hard to be sure with a hamster. They're stoic.

My phone vibrated to the bat-signal, making me jump. I flopped on the couch to answer, my heart fluttering a little. We hadn't talked since Ranger had asked me about the engagement two days before.

'Yo.'

'Babe.'

'I just got home.'

'I know.'

Right. Ranger's got GPS trackers all over me. Still, he's got to be keeping a personal watch if he knew I'd just got home. I took a swig of my water and decided to explore the extent of his bat-radar. 'Ah, but do you know what I'm doing, now that I'm home?'

'You're on the couch with a drink.'

My mouth popped open and I almost dropped the bottle. I looked around my living room suspiciously. 'Tell me you haven't put a camera in here.'

'Babe.'

'Well, how do you know what I'm doing? Are you watching on some kind of 'scope?' I got up on my knees to peer through the window.

'Babe. It's hot. You just got home. You've got to be tired and thirsty. It figures you're on the couch drinking water.'

'Oh.' Okay. I guess bat-radar has a passing resemblance to deductive reasoning. 'So...how's life in the batcave?'

I detected a smile in his answer. 'Quiet. Routine day. Morning run, weight training, daily briefing, paperwork. I had a preliminary meeting with Lopez on his son's personal security, strategised a couple jobs then met with two potential clients this afternoon.'

'Sounds...very busy. I guess the guys were out handling the exciting stuff, huh?'

'The only excitement today was Ella's cookies. Chocolate chip and peanut butter snaps. You would have liked them, Babe. Tank took some home for Lula.'

Ranger was volunteering information. And speaking in complete sentences – well, some of them. I felt a little giddy; what the heck was going on? We were having a conversation rather than the usual one-word briefing on a need-to-know basis. And he gave the guys cookies?

'You allowed fat and sugar in the lunch room? That's the end of the world as we know it.'

'Temporary shift in the axis. I put the men under unusual pressure the last couple days; I owed them. And Ella's cookies are low fat and naturally sweetened. Did you enjoy breakfast, Babe?'

The awkward conversation with Paco about Ranger meant my answer was restrained. 'It was okay.'

Ranger was silent. 'How about the rest of your day?'

'My day?' I sighed. 'Well, I took in Mario Buzo. I'm sure you've already heard the story. Trenton PD is still laughing it up. I ripped a hole in my jeans, lost my handcuffs and stun gun and walked five blocks back to my car, dragging him by the belt. He had an erection catching the breeze the whole time. So my day's been just peachy.'

Truth is, the experience was demoralizing and I was working hard to maintain my Jersey tough. I don't know why I was telling him this; usually I turn myself inside out to avoid Ranger hearing about my Calamity Jane exploits. Ranger's sudden information-sharing had disarmed me.

'Babe. You brought him in. If he chose to expose himself, the humiliation is his, not yours. You didn't give up, you didn't let it get to you, you did your job. That's what counts. I'm proud of you.'

My eyes prickled and I couldn't talk for the lump in my throat. I cleared it twice before I managed to make a sound. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome, Babe.'

There was a long silence while I suppressed the urge to give in to tears. 'You know, you give good pep talks. We should do this more often.'

'That's the plan.'

'It is?' I listened to a short Ranger silence.

'I'll speak with you tomorrow, Babe.'

'You will?'

'I will.'

Ranger had made no mention of a job the whole phone call. Wow. It wasn't a work call. He'd asked about my day. He'd told me about his day. He'd lifted my spirits and made me feel worthwhile. And he'd effectively promised to do it again. The warm fuzzies made me feel light-headed and I waltzed into the bathroom. I left the ring next to the sink before stepping into the shower.

I padded into my bedroom in a towel to get dressed and there it was, on my pillow. Another long-stemmed, red rose. I sighed. I knew it wasn't from Ranger; I'd already concluded that I had another crazy on my ass. I nibbled my lip, wondering what to do. I'd promised Joe I'd bring him in if I needed help. Did I need help?

There wasn't much to go on. This was a tidy, non-aggressive crazy who was content to leave me flowers. There were no threats, no disturbance, no leads and no suspects. I'd ask around the building and if anything turned up I'd call Joe. If not, I'd wait and see; no point in getting him hot under the collar just as we'd found calm seas.

I got dressed in shorts and t-shirt, took the rose and went down to my buddy Dillon's subterranean domain. He answered the door with a beer in his hand.

'Hey, Steph! Come in. Wanna beer?'

'Nah, not today. You didn't happen to see anyone carrying a rose – this rose – into the building?'

'Nope. I was up on your floor earlier getting the stain out of the carpet in front of Mrs Karwatt's door but I didn't see anyone who didn't belong.'

'No delivery guy? No visitors on the wrong floor?'

He shook his head. I went door to door but no one had seen anyone carrying my rose. The elevator doors opened up as I was heading back to my apartment and Mrs Bestler stuck her head out.

'Found any bargains, dear?'

'Not really. Got a rose. Would you like it?'

'Are you sure? I haven't been given a rose in over twenty years!' I handed it over to Mrs Bestler and went back to my apartment, slipping my locks, bolt and chain behind me.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: All the characters you recognise are the creations and the property of Janet Evanovich. I derive no profit from their use.

With thanks to **Dee** and** JannyB** for the wonderful job they do keeping me honest (and grammatically correct).

I'm very grateful for every review and PM. Keep 'em coming! Feedback is very nourishing.

-------------------------------

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 14: Babysitting**

Why was Morelli licking my face? I groaned with my eyes closed, turned my head away and burrowed under my pillow. He moved to my feet which were exposed by the sheet. I groaned again and pulled my legs up into a fetal position. A heavy weight made the center of the bed dip and he started nudging my shoulder.

I growled from under the pillow. 'Cut it out, Joe! It's the crack of dawn. My girl parts haven't woken up yet.'

The nudging continued and he started to lick my now-exposed shoulder.

'Joe!' I popped up from under my pillow and came nose to nose with Bob, who picked up the pace of his doggy kisses. I sighed. There's no snooze button for a hungry dog.

'Okay, buddy, I'll top up your food bowl but you can't tell Joe.'

I dragged myself to the kitchen to refill Bob's bowl. Seeing I was up, I gave Rex two grapes from the bunch Morelli had brought. Morelli's note was stuck to the coffee pot, which he'd filled and prepared for lift-off. I smiled as I read it; he'd bought me donuts, wanted to meet me for lunch at Pino's and I had Bob for the day.

I opened the donut box to make my selection: two Boston crèmes, two chocolate iced and two jelly-filled. None appealed so I passed. Hmm. Passing on a donut was a new experience. Maybe my stomach was still asleep with my girl parts.

I yawned, pressed go on the coffee and headed to the shower. The engagement ring winked at me from its little bowl next to the sink where it lived now to keep it safe from falling down the drain. I let the water wake me up and scrubbed my skin to get the circulation going. The phone rang as I was drying off and I answered in my towel.

Valerie's voice was wobbly and weak. 'Steph, you know I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate. I need you to look after Lisa today.'

'But I've got work. What's the problem?'

'Stomach 'flu.'

'Can't Mom do it?'

'No, she's got a catering class at the community college and, before you ask, Grandma's got something at the senior center. Albert dropped the girls off at school but he's in court all day. I'm desperate. Oh, God! I have to run again! I need you, Steph. Take the day off and come get her!'

Valerie disconnected before I could answer. I looked at Bob. He gave me his happy smile and wagged his tail.

'Looks like we're babysitting, Bob. How hard can it be? They eat, they sleep, they gurgle. Let's go.' I guzzled my coffee and grabbed the donut box to take to the office. Bob stopped for a tinkle in the parking lot then we peeled out for the Kloughns.

Valerie was in her dressing gown looking like the Bride of Frankenstein with blond hair. She had everything ready at the door bar the baby so I loaded the car with all the bags and stroller and installed the baby seat in back before I got Lisa.

'I'm only taking her for the day, right? It looks like you've packed enough for a siege.'

'It's just essentials. I owe you, Steph. You don't mind, do you? You can spend some bonding time with the girls.'

'You said the girls are at school. I've just got Lisa.'

'Yeah but you'll need to pick them up this afternoon. Albert said he doesn't know when he'll be done. It'll be fun for you. You can practice your parenting skills.'

'But I don't have any parenting skills.'

'Figure it out, Steph. You're a grown woman; you can do it.' I sighed and Valerie shut the door, already rushing to the bathroom again.

I looked warily at Lisa, who was sitting on my hip watching me with big, solemn eyes and sucking her thumb. 'Looks like it's you and me, kid.'

She took her thumb out to grin at me, revealing three tiny front teeth. I smiled back, feeling fortified by her confidence. I strapped her into her little seat in the back and we took off for the park because Bob wanted a walk. We stopped by the lake to check out the ducks and Bob earned some baby giggles by chasing the poultry into the water. We didn't stay long because one-year-old babies can't walk far and they have an unhealthy obsession with pond slime. Both facts were news to me.

I had to resort to carrying her because I couldn't work out how the levers worked on the stroller to set it up. Have you looked at a stroller lately? They've got more moving parts than a giant Special Edition Erector set. Every time I put Lisa down she veered towards the lake and I'd have to pick her up again while she wriggled and shrieked in protest.

'Duck! Duck! Duck!' she wailed, her chubby finger pointing to the poultry recreating in the pond slime.

A couple of blue-haired seniors shot me disapproving looks as I carried the struggling Lisa by whatever handholds I could get on her limbs. I was feeling traumatised and out of control and it was only the first hour.

Connie took Lisa out of my arms as soon as I stepped into the bonds office. 'Oh, my God, she's even more gorgeous than last time I saw her! Come to Aunt Connie, sweetie.' Lisa looked calm and content. Probably exhausted herself with the tantrum over the ducks. I put the donut box on the desk and Bob stood up on his back legs to sniff at it.

'Something smells funky.' Lula narrowed her eyes at Lisa.

'I thought I smelled something in the car but I didn't want to look down her pants in public. I figured I'd bring her here and get it checked out in private.' I had every hope that Connie would take over the job. I was willing to try my hand at number ones but the whiff indicated number twos.

'Duck!' said Lisa.

'You better be careful, white girl, your niece is sending out a signal to Vinnie.'

Connie rested Lisa against her shoulder, pulled down the band of the tiny little shorts and peeked into the back of the diaper. 'Yep. Is that the diaper bag?'

'Sure is.' I took it off my shoulder and held it out to Connie.

She raised both eyebrows and shook her head nice and slow. 'I don't think so.'

'Please! Come on, Connie. Please, please! I'll give you a thousand dollars if you'll do it.'

'You don't have a thousand dollars.'

'I'll do it in installments. You know where I live.'

Connie watched me grovel a little longer before relenting. 'Tell you what, you do it and I'll help. You gotta learn how to do this before you and Morelli start breeding. Come on.' Connie moved toward the couch.

'What the hell you doing?' Lula moved between Connie and the couch and shoo'ed us away. 'You can't open that parcel of baby poop out here on the couch! It ain't professional. And I ain't good with baby poop! You gotta take that into the bathroom.'

Connie rolled her eyes, settled Lisa on her hip and the diaper bag over her shoulder and sashayed to the bathroom like she did it every day of the week. I followed her, part horrified, part admiring but mostly in a state of disbelief that I was getting a lesson in poopy diapers. As for the crack about me and Morelli breeding, I was going to pretend like that never happened.

Ten minutes later we came back out. Lula was filing her nails and chewing and Bob was showing interest in the empty donut box on the floor. There was jelly on his eyebrows. So much for breakfast but I wasn't hungry anyway.

I had the diaper bag while Connie followed behind with Lisa. 'She's good to go for the rest of the morning.'

Lula looked up and did a double take. 'Damn, girl! What the hell did you do in there? You look like you been through an explosion at the flour mill.'

'I was holding the baby powder upside down when I shook it. I was a little rattled.' I dropped the diaper bag on the floor and shook my head, running my fingers through my hair and brushing off my t-shirt.

Lula tweaked an unimpressed eyebrow at me. 'Oh, yeah. It's all taken care of now.'

I rolled my eyes at her and took Lisa back from Connie. 'Connie, can you run a search on Buddy Hoffmeier? He's being elusive. I need current addresses and phone numbers for these guys. They're my last leads.'

Lula's eyes flicked down to watch my left hand reach into my pocket for my notes and push them across the desk. She looked back up at me. 'Still not wearing the ring, huh?'

Connie's eyes left the screen to glance down at my hand and tutted. 'You know you'll have a second ring to get used to after the wedding, right?'

The familiar vertigo made the office tilt. I leaned heavily on the desk to save myself from falling and held tight to Lisa until the world stopped rocking. 'I told you. I'm going to have it resized. Just focus on the search, okay?'

Connie shook her head and typed in the search parameters. 'Is this going to be an on-again, off-again engagement?'

Lula snorted. 'You heard that definition of crazy? You do the same thing over and over and hope you get a different result? Well, you can duck and weave, white girl, but you gonna have to tune in to Sanity FM sooner or later.'

I glared at her. 'This is getting old, Lula. You're the one who's making me crazy.'

She snorted again and exchanged a look with Connie. They both shook their heads like _what can you do?_ and Connie pushed the printed sheets across the desk to me. 'Here you go. I didn't get much. Maybe Ranger's programs can give you more.'

'Duck!' Lisa declared and started wailing again. I jiggled her but she wouldn't be consoled.

'Don't you got a pacifier in there?' Lula picked up the bag and eyed it suspiciously. 'I ain't going to catch no poop cooties if I put my hand in there, am I?'

I reassured her and she fished around gingerly in one of the outside pockets. She came up with a hot pink pacifier. She held it out to Lisa, who reached for it with both hands and sucked it in. Instant, blissful silence.

I picked up the diaper bag and shoved the papers in a pocket. 'I'm going to make the calls from home. Lisa needs to rest up for a while before lunch anyway.'

'You coming back?' Lula wanted to know.

'No, we're meeting Joe at Pino's and then I've got to pick up the two girls from school. I'm not working Vinnie's skips this weekend so if I get any live leads we'll go after him Monday.' Lula gave me a thumbs up.

'Bye-bye sweetie,' Connie cooed at Lisa. Bob padded after me out the door and we went home.

I dropped the baby bags and put Lisa down on the carpet so I could change my shirt and wash my face. I tried to brush the baby powder out of my hair but it had thickened up and stood on end with static like a halo. I couldn't leave Lisa alone so I couldn't wash it. I sighed at my reflection in the mirror, shoved my hair up into a ponytail which looked like a pom-pom and added another layer of mascara.

When I came out of the bathroom Bob and Lisa were wrestling around on the floor. Lisa seemed to have the top so I left them to it and called Ranger to ask if he'd do the search. His phone went to voicemail. I hung up, frowning. If he was in the wind it would put an end to our phone conversations before I had a chance to get used to them. Tank called before I got too deflated.

'Hey Steph, you need something?'

'Ranger told you to call me?'

'He can't talk to you right now.'

'I just need an easy search. So, Ranger's around, right?'

'He's here, just can't take your call. Give me the names and I'll get Binky to email you the results.'

The little stab of disappointment that I didn't get to talk to him was swallowed up by the relief that Ranger hadn't relocated to Kazakhstan with no forwarding address.

I fired up my laptop and waited for Binky's email but I made little progress with the calls. Bob and Lisa entertained each other pretty well but I couldn't concentrate on work with them rolling around under my feet. I only intervened twice, when Lisa wouldn't give Bob back his dog biscuit and another time when Bob dragged her around the carpet by one foot. It was the giggling that got my attention.

Lisa and I gave Bob another tinkling opportunity before we dropped him back at Morelli's and headed to Pino's. It was noisy with a regular lunchtime crowd, many of them cops. Joe waved me over from the table where he and Gina were nursing drinks. I wove through the crowd toward them and Joe met me half way. He wrapped his arms around the both of us and locked lips with me then he snagged Lisa expertly out of my arms for a cuddle.

'We've ordered the pizzas. What do you want to drink, Cupcake?'

'Just ice water.'

Joe headed for the bar with Lisa, swooping her through the air to play airplanes while she giggled, and I went to the table. Gina stood to greet me Roman-style with a kiss to each cheek then pulled me down into the chair on the side between her and Morelli.

'Che bella bimba! _[what a beautiful baby girl!]_ She is baby of your sister, si?'

'Yeah, her youngest.'

'Joe tell me she have three children? She is lucky woman. I have three brothers and two sisters; many nephews and nieces. Twelve! Big family is beautiful, si?' Big family sounded more like the definition of freakin' scary to me. Three nieces were already more than I could handle.

Joe came back dragging a high chair in his spare hand and set it on the fourth side of the table, facing me. He slid Lisa into it and gave her a couple of straws to play with while Gina secured her with the safety belt on the chair.

Lisa started banging her fist on the table so Gina reached across to play a sing-song finger game with her. She smiled her million-dollar smile at Lisa's responses, causing glazed looks on the faces of the men sitting nearby. 'She make me homesick for my family. You and Joe will make beautiful children, I think?'

I shifted awkwardly in my seat. 'Maybe some time in the future. I don't plan on having a baby any time soon.'

Joe looked across at me, smiling into my eyes. 'Not soon, but we'll have them.'

Them? _Them?_ My mouth went dry.

The pizza arrived and we plated up. I didn't have much of an appetite but I felt obliged to nibble on a slice seeing I'd missed breakfast. Gina cut one into pieces for Lisa as finger food then foraged in the baby bag and came up with a sip cup for her. Morelli filled it with water and put it into her chubby hands. He watched her drinking with a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Lisa ate a few pieces and played with the rest, dropping bits on the floor and laughing uproariously when Morelli made a big show of picking them up for her.

Morelli took the last slice of pizza and looked pointedly at my plate. I still had half of my first piece sitting on it. 'What's happened to that famous Plum appetite?'

I shrugged. 'Just not hungry.'

Morelli took my hand, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. 'You okay? You're not eating lately.'

I rubbed the back of his hand and held it, smiled to reassure him. 'Temporary. We've got dinner with my parents tonight – I'm sure I'll make up for it.' Morelli's eyes were warm. He threaded his fingers through mine and raised my hand to his mouth to kiss it.

Lisa got bored and started protesting again. When the sing-song game wouldn't work, Gina took her out of the chair and sat her in Morelli's lap and they tag-teamed it. While she wiped the baby's pizza-smeared face and hands, Morelli played peekaboo and between the two of them, Lisa calmed down again.

Morelli jiggled her like he knew what he was doing. Lisa sucked her thumb, fretting and squirming. His nose wrinkled and he scooped his face down closer to Lisa, sniffing. 'Does she need a diaper change?'

My face must have reflected my panic. How many changes could one baby need?

Morelli patted my shoulder, smiling. 'It's okay, I'll do it.' He picked up the diaper bag and started toward the bathrooms with Lisa over his shoulder.

I gaped at him and grabbed the back of his shirt. 'Since when do you know how to change a poopy diaper?'

Morelli shrugged. 'Since Tony's kids. I babysit for them occasionally. The boys are harder.'

'Why are boys harder?'

Morelli grinned. 'As soon as you take off the diaper and the cold air hits them, babies turn on the waterworks. With girls, you don't have to duck.' I blinked. Morelli leaned down to kiss my hair and sauntered off with the baby.

We watched his retreat, Gina with an amused smile and me with awed relief. It was a side to Morelli I'd never seen before. It was kinda sexy, this macho man taking care of a baby girl, but it also freaked me out. He looked altogether too comfortable with a baby in his arms.

'Joe will be very good father, si?' Gina smiled like she was congratulating me. My stomach knotted up but I smiled. Gina's eyes turned back in the direction Morelli had gone. She looked thoughtful.

As soon as Morelli sat down Lisa started fretting, sucking her thumb and rubbing her eyes, signalling the end of lunch. Gina suggested a bottle of milk before I put her down would keep her sleeping for a couple of hours. Morelli carried Lisa and the bags out to the car, strapped her in then pulled me into a hug. I slung my arms loosely around his waist and leaned into him.

'Thanks, Joe.'

'For what?'

I shrugged. 'Everything in there. I didn't know you were so good with babies.'

He kissed my nose. 'I'm okay. Didn't really do much. I just like kids.' He smiled and kissed my mouth softly.

'I'll meet you at your parents' at six.' He waved us off.

By the time we got home, a nap was sounding pretty good so Lisa and I snuggled into my bed for a couple of hours' shut-eye. I'd been asleep for one second when I woke with Lisa sitting on my chest giving me wet baby kisses. It felt a lot like waking up with Bob. I tried to get her to lie down again but she wasn't having any of it. Lisa wanted to play.

She played with my hair. She tried to lift open my eyelids and poked tiny fingers in my ear and my mouth. She called out for Bob, who was at Morelli's. She called out for ducks again. She whined and niggled and cried. And she needed another diaper change. I used what I'd learned from the lesson Connie gave me but it took two attempts and two diapers to get the job done.

I got us both dressed and out the door five minutes before we were supposed to be at the school. Babies take a lot more time than I realized. I gunned it and was only fifteen minutes late.

The girls were at the gate, Angie standing composed as the Virgin Mary, feet together and her school bag over her shoulder, while Mary Alice led two other little horses in a galloping ring around her sister. The herd dispersed to their respective mothers, who were also running late, and the girls climbed into the Mustang.

Mary Alice insisted on sitting in the front and disdained the seatbelt. 'Mustangs are horses, you know, Aunt Stephanie.'

'Yeah but this is a car-type Mustang so you're going to have to wear a seat belt,' I insisted.

'Horses don't wear seat belts. They only wear bridles. And mustangs like to gallop without bridles.'

'Duck!' Lisa called from the back seat and started whining.

I got out the big guns. 'Tell you what, you put on your seat belt and we'll go to Uncle Mo's for ice-cream. What do you think?'

Uncle Mo's wasn't owned by Uncle Mo any more because he was in the pokey. The store had been taken over by a mom and pop outfit and it looked much the same except they'd added coffee and adult ice cream flavors to their menu.

The girls joined the throng of kids and mothers in front of the display cabinet and Mary Alice wormed her way to the front. Grunts of pain tracked her passage as she stepped on toes and poked ribs to jump the queue.

'I want chocolate chip, marshmallow and rainbow,' Mary Alice piped out.

'Okay. What about you, Angie?'

'Vanilla, thank you. I just want one scoop.'

I ordered for them and got a triple scoop of chilli chocolate, coconut and zabaglione for myself. What? I had hardly touched lunch. I distributed the cones while I balanced Lisa on my hip. We moved to sit down and she realized she wasn't getting a cone and started shrieking in protest.

'You should get her a rainbow cone, Aunt Stephanie,' Mary Alice suggested.

Angie looked prim. 'Ice cream isn't good for babies. She should only eat yogurt.'

Mary Alice rolled her eyes. 'You've got such a stick up...'

'Mary Alice!' I cut across her. Grandma Mazur was a bad influence.

'Well, she does! Why can't Lisa have ice-cream? It's just a treat.'

The two girls squabbled, Mary Alice at the top of her voice, Angie in a hissed undertone, while Lisa continued to wail, pointing to Mary Alice's cone and crying out. 'Duck! Duck!'

All the mothers in the store turned to stare down their noses, tutting and smirking amongst themselves. The group of kids at the table next to us was hustled out of the store, the mother giving me a dirty look as she passed.

I gave up. I ordered a baby rainbow cone for Lisa and we sat down again. Mary Alice grinned, Angie looked disapproving and Lisa smeared the cone all over her face, the table, my hair, my ear and then gummed the remainder. I struggled to hold on to her while I ducked out of the way of her sticky, wet fingers and dropped my cone onto the floor.

The two girls helped to clean up the table while I concentrated on Lisa, who was screaming again now that she didn't have a cone in her hand. I gave up trying to wipe her down and concentrated on jiggling to calm her down. I even tried the little sing-song that had worked for Gina. Lisa buried her sticky, tearful face in my t-shirt, hiccupped and threw up on me.

I took the screaming trio back home to the Kloughns. The girls raced into the house while I handed Lisa over to Albert at the door then went back to the car to get the bags and babyseat.

'Thanks for looking after us this afternoon, Aunt Stephanie,' Angie hugged me.

Mary Alice galloped up and whinnied. 'I don't think you should babysit us by yourself next time. We had a lot of fun but I don't think you did. I think maybe babysitting isn't one of the things you're good at.' I blinked.

I locked myself into the peace and quiet of my apartment and I went straight to the bathroom to strip off the baby-vomit clothes and wash my face and arms right up to armpits. I was too exhausted to shower so I went into my bedroom to flop back onto my bed in my underwear. The bat-signal came through as I stretched out and I sighed with relief. Ranger was as good as his word.

'Yo.'

'Babe, you sound beat.'

'You can tell that with just "Yo"?'

Ranger was silent but I could sense him smiling.

'You're good.'

'In many ways, Babe.'

My eyes glazed over, but I regrouped and remembered why I was beat. 'Val was sick so I baby-sat Lisa the whole day and then I picked up the two older girls after school. It was quite a day.'

'Want to fill me in?'

'It was an eye-opener. I've never spent a whole day with a baby. I learned how to change poopy diapers and dealt with baby vomit, a duck obsession and a lot of screaming. I got no work done at all. Then I picked up the girls and we went for ice-cream.'

'Babe.'

I rolled my eyes. You'd think he'd have accepted by now that sugar and fats are at the base of the Plum food pyramid.

'Well, anyway, we all survived.' I figured I'd better stop before I started whining.

Ranger was quiet, waiting for me to continue.

'It's just...it was harder than I expected. The girls had a fight in the ice-cream parlor and we were practically run out of Mo's. Lisa cried a lot and nothing I did helped. Everyone else seemed to know what to do, even Lula. I just felt awkward.' Just as I thought; whining.

'There's nothing wrong with that. You have little experience with babies. It's not instinctive, it's a learned skill.'

'Well, Mary Alice told me she had fun but maybe I shouldn't try babysitting them by myself because it's not something I'm good at. She picked up on how uncomfortable I felt. It threw me.'

'Kids are perceptive, Babe. Julie has said things that disarm me.'

'You're talking with Julie?'

'Emailing mostly. Her counselor says she needs to get to know me better to get over the trauma of the kidnapping.'

Julie and me both. I still had nightmares about Ranger being shot. Some nights I woke crying hysterically because he had died in my dream.

'It's great that you're getting to know her, Ranger. What did she say that got to you?'

'She asked me what name she could call me.'

'In the hospital she called you Ranger.'

'She says that's a name the bad guys use.'

I smiled at that. Julie's a smart cookie. 'What did you say?'

'Told her it was up to her.'

'Did you suggest anything?'

'Papa.'

'Papa?'

'That's what I call my father.'

Ranger calls his dad Papa. And he told me. And he told me about Julie, too. He was sharing. I felt my chest expand with warm fuzzies.

'What did she decide to call you?'

He paused and I thought he wasn't going to tell me but he took an audible breath and said, 'Pops.'

I clapped a hand over my mouth to smother the laugh busting to get out. Ranger was Pops!

'I can hear you, Babe.'

'I didn't make a sound!'

'You're laughing on the inside.' He didn't sound like he minded. A giggle escaped me.

'You don't expect me to keep this to myself, do you?' I teased.

'I do.'

'You're going to have to bribe me, Pops.'

Ranger made a soft growling sound under his breath that might have been a laugh. 'What's your price, Babe?'

'Hmm. You're going to have to give me some Batman secrets. I want to know the man behind the mask. What does your family call you?'

There was a whole lot of Ranger silence at the end of the line. Just as I thought my luck had run out, he answered.

'My father calls me Carlos. My sisters usually call me Carlito. Abuelita Rosa calls me Rico. My mom calls me niño unless she's mad at me, and then she calls me Ricardo Carlos Manoso.' Ranger's accent was pure, sexy Hispanic, his velvety voice rolling his r's softly like water. 'My brother usually calls me asshole, but these days it's with affection.'

I smiled. _Carlos. Carrrlos. Carrrlito. Rrricarrrr__do. Rrrico._ I was testing out the names in my head. I liked _Carrrlos_ the best. The way Ranger said it caused my bones to melt but I didn't think I'd be able to roll my tongue like that.I was so beguiled that he'd told me about his family, it took me a while to respond.

'Niño means little boy, doesn't it?'

'It does.'

'Are you the baby of the family?'

'No.' I waited, but he didn't elaborate.

'Can I call you Carrrlos?' I attempted my very best tongue roll. It didn't sound as sexy as when Ranger said it but I could practice.

'Why?'

'I don't know; your dad calls you Carrrlos.'

'Carlos is very formal.' So he had a formal relationship with his father. And he didn't want me to use a formal name. I smiled.

'Okay but Julie's got a point, you know. Ranger is a street name; it's not exactly intimate.'

'You want to be intimate with me, Babe?'

I was flat on my back on my bed as we talked. His words, almost a whisper in my ear, triggered a flashback of his face above mine as he moved inside me the night we were intimate. The rush of liquid heat that flooded me made it hard to breathe.

I rolled off the bed and left the scene of the crime. I moved into the kitchen to lean on the bench with my eyes closed and forced my thoughts back to the conversation. With effort, I lightened my tone.

'I could call you Carrrlito.' The silence on the line hinted at amusement. 'Or, maybe I'll test drive some names and decide what works.'

'I'll be interested to hear what you come up with.'

'Something will inspire me, I'm sure.'

'If you're at a loss for inspiration, I can help you out.'

And now I wanted to be flat on my back again, with his face above mine, moving with him. I was not supposed to feel like this about Ranger. I shook my head but the vision stuck.

'Tomorrow, Babe.'

I stayed leaning on the kitchen counter, put some concentrated effort into pumping up my denial. Then I hit the shower.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N The characters you recognise are the creations and property of Janet Evanovich and I use them without permission. I derive no profit from their use. The plot, such as it is, and the characters you don't recognize are mine.

With thanks to **Dee** and **JannyB** for the wonderful job they do keeping me honest (and grammatically correct).

I'm very grateful for every review and PM. Keep 'em coming! Feedback is very nourishing.

.

oOoOoOoOo

.

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 15: Counting Down**

.**  
**

Morelli parked in front of the house and reached across the console to pull me into a hug. He smoothed the frown lines from my forehead with his thumb. "You doing okay, Cupcake?"

I yawned. "I'm good. These early sessions with Father Gabriel are taking it out of me, that's all."

Morelli smiled. "Six sessions down; only two more to go."

We met with Father Gabriel two mornings a week for _Prepare: Your Catholic Marriage_, to discuss our shared values, expectations and views on life, the universe and everything. It was an excruciating hour.

I groaned. "It feels so weird talking about our sex life with the priest who did my Confirmation."

Morelli chuckled into my hair. "We're not exactly talking favorite positions; it's just part of the whole relationship discussion."

"I know. It'll be fine."

Morelli rubbed his cheek against my forehead, holding me quietly and trying to delay his departure. He sighed. His exhalation tickled my scalp. "I've got to go, Cupcake."

"I know."

"I wouldn't go if I didn't have to."

"I know."

"We'll be back Sunday night."

"I know."

He pulled back to look at me, his mouth hitched up into a half-smile. "Anything you don't know?"

I peered up. "A lot."

The super secret task force he and Gina were on had some kind of undercover job. I had no idea what he'd be doing or where he'd be doing it, but I knew the duffel bag in the back seat held clothes that could have come straight out of the Rangeman wardrobe department: body armour, combat gear heavy on night camouflage. Morelli kissed me goodbye and took off.

Bob pounced up to French kiss me as soon as I opened the door and padded after me to the kitchen. I put on coffee and checked Morelli's pantry in a half-hearted way but nothing screamed out _eat me_ so I passed. The meetings with Father Gabriel weren't helping my appetite.

I went upstairs to change out of the conservative skirt and heels into cargo shorts and tank to cope with the heat, and high top sneakers instead of CAT boots. I made the bed and then flopped back onto it, spreadeagled.

Morelli was handling the _Prepare_ sessions better than I was and that pissed me off. I had hoped we'd be equally dysfunctional but Morelli seemed to be getting into the process. Today's lecture was on honesty and the insidious consequences of keeping secrets.

"It's like rust," Father Gabriel explained, his eyes spearing me like an onion on a cocktail fork. "It starts as a tiny spot and you think, it's small, no need to sweat it. It's not serious, right? But it doesn't end with one small spot. Before you know it, the whole underlying structure is riddled with rust. Secrets and lies are like rust. If you take your relationship seriously, there's no such thing as a little white lie. Secrets erode intimacy."

I tried not to blink as he emphasized his point by poking the air in front of my face with his finger. Morelli parried. "You're not talking about police business, right? Because there are things I'm not allowed to tell Stephanie."

Father Gabriel shook his head. "I'm talking about withholding information that affects your relationship. You're smart people, I don't have to spell it out. Ask yourself: why am I reluctant to share this with her? Why don't I want him to know about this? If you want to keep something secret, maybe there's an underlying problem."

Father Gabriel looked directly at me as he spoke, his steely blue eyes unblinking. I had tried not to take it personally.

I chewed my lip as I lay on the bed and thought about Ranger. Guilt rolled through my stomach like a bad egg roll.

Ranger called every day unless Morelli was with me. I don't know how Ranger knew I was alone but I suspected one or more GPS trackers had something to do with it. The call was the best part of my day and I looked forward to it with more eagerness than I could explain. No matter how much crap the day threw at me, Ranger's voice at the other end of the line made everything okay.

Truth is, the guilt wasn't just about the phone calls. There were a lot of things Morelli didn't know. He didn't know about the Rangeman bikini briefs and bras in the back of my underwear drawer. He didn't know my favorite sleepwear consisted of Ranger's purloined black t-shirts. He didn't know I had allocated space in Ranger's closet and under his sink. He didn't know about the alley trysts or the late night visits to my apartment. Our engagement meant no more trips to the alley but the _feelings _weren't that easy leave behind. The feelings wouldn't go away. It's like Ranger has a switch that overrides my controls.

I groaned. This was masochistic. I was committed and I was over and done dwelling on the feelings Ranger aroused.

I rolled off the bed and Bob followed me downstairs. I looked in Morelli's pantry again but my stomach still felt queasy. I gave Bob a dog biscuit and we went for a walk so he could take care of business. Back at the house, he wagged his tail goodbye and I took off for the bonds office.

I gave up trying to coerce the park brake and left the car in neutral, turning the wheels into the curb so it wouldn't take off on its own down the slight decline of the street.

Lula was looking fine in blizzard white Lycra hot pants and white, patent leather peep-toe go-go boots. Her hair was sunshine yellow to match my Mustang. Her face fell when she saw I was empty-handed. "No donuts?"

"Forgot, sorry. We can stop off for breakfast on the way to pick up Buddy."

Lula's eyebrows shot up. "You forgot _donuts? _That's like you forgot to breathe."

Connie looked up. "You found Buddy Hoffmeier?"

"Yep. You can bank on Rangeman's search programs any day of the week."

Vinnie hollered from his back office. "About damned time you found him! It's taken you three weeks to run down that toe-rag. And Ranger still hasn't found Bordhern. If he doesn't bring him in by the end of next week I'm gonna be out five hundred big ones. I'm bleeding money here!"

"Stop buying bugs for my desk and you'll bleed less!" Connie yelled back.

"Smart-ass. If the Keystone Cops here can't get the job done, I'll bring in Joyce." The door slammed shut and we heard the lock snib.

Connie snorted. "He won't bring in Joyce; she threatened to shake him down last time she was in here." She handed over two files. "These two came in this morning."

I looked at them: Clarence Sampson and Shoshanna Brown. Old buddies. I smiled as I signed for them, then took a deep breath and kept my head down. I'd rehearsed my spiel and had already gone through this on the phone with my parents, Valerie and Mary Lou.

"Hey, I want to invite you to my housewarming. Saturday, two weeks time, at Joe's. Starting midday and we'll party until late." My voice sounded calm and casual.

I snuck a peek and caught Lula and Connie exchanging glances.

Lula looked over at me. "You giving up your place already? I thought you were planning a spring wedding?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, but there's no need to keep the apartment. I'll save money on rent and Joe really wants me to move in."

"When are you moving?"

"My lease is up in just over a week. The housewarming is the weekend after."

Connie smiled. "Sure. I'm coming. It'll be like an engagement party, right?"

"Tankie and me will be there. Open house?"

I nodded. "Open to all friends and family. We need to know numbers, though, so we'll have enough food. It'll be fun. Joe's inviting most of Trenton PD and I'll call the guys at Rangeman."

Connie raised her eyebrows. "_All_ the guys from Rangeman?"

"Sure. All my friends are welcome."

Lula looked doubtful. "All them Rangemen in a house full of cops?"

I shrugged. "They're big boys. They'll work it out." I picked up the two files and my pocketbook. "Ready to go?"

Lula grabbed her bag. "Sure. My Glock's all locked and loaded. But I need to eat. I didn't get any donuts this morning," she pointed out.

I rolled my eyes. "You don't need to lock and load. Clarence will be happy to see us and Buddy's a peacenik."

We decided to pick up Clarence before heading for the golden arches. I figured he'd wake up with his usual morning hangover and the promise of a ride to free breakfast fries would be too good to resist. I wasn't wrong. I got him fries, a double bacon cheeseburger and a large Coke – The Hangover Cure. I was checking him in at Trenton PD within an hour of leaving the bonds office. It was an easy two hundred bucks.

I was half-expecting Lula to be gone with my car by the time I got my body receipt but my Mustang was where I'd left it, with Lula still in it. She'd finished eating and was starting to feel twitchy about her proximity to the police station. She'd been a 'ho a long time and the reflex to cut and run at the sight of a cop was ingrained.

"You took your sweet time. I'm getting dehydrated here. There ain't no shade in this car with the top open. I need a drink. A super-sized Coke, with ice."

We detoured through McDonald's again on the way to Buddy's and slurped on our icy drinks while singing along to Metallica at the tops of our voices.

"What makes you think he's there? We staked out his apartment three times last week and we didn't see a hair."

"He was at a yoga retreat upstate. Been there for four weeks and only got back two days ago. That's why he missed his court date. He's a yoga nut."

"Hunh. You got that from the Rangeman search?"

"Yep."

"You're one lucky bounty hunter, you know that? You just pick up the phone and every techno-gimmick in the bat cave is at your service. I'm betting Batman is at your service, too. "

I didn't answer. I could feel Lula staring at me. "You think it's a good idea inviting him to a housewarming at Officer Hottie's house?"

I glared at her. "Of course I'm inviting him! Ranger's my friend and I want him there." I turned back to the road. Lula didn't know it but the 'housewarming' was my wedding. I couldn't imagine getting through it without Ranger. A wave of nausea rolled through me. Maybe I should have forced myself to eat something.

"Okay, I get that. And I think you wanna make some kind of point with Supercop. But what if Batman doesn't want to play nice? What if he don't feel like smiling while he watches you play house with Officer Hottie?"

I stopped for the lights and turned my head toward Lula. I didn't answer.

Lula peered at me over the top of her white-rimmed retro sunglasses. "Ranger's been keeping himself a little scarce lately. You notice that?" I didn't answer. The lights changed and I turned right into Buddy's street.

Is the Pope a Catholic? Of course I noticed. Ranger was smoke. Or fog, or mist or whatever the heck weather metaphor applied. I hadn't laid eyes on him since the conversation after he found out about the engagement.

And I couldn't reach him. For the last three weeks, Ranger had called me every evening, long, intimate, relaxed conversations but whenever I called him his phone went to voice mail. Ten seconds later I'd get a call back from Tank. It seemed no matter what time I called, Ranger wasn't in a position to talk. Tank was now the permanent point man for Stephanie Watch, making sure I didn't get into any trouble.

It was confusing the hell out of me. Ranger was allowing more and more emotional closeness while keeping me at a distance physically. It was a contradiction and it turned all our previous interactions upside down. The distancing made it easier to keep my promise to Morelli but I missed Ranger. A lot.

The phone calls had developed an emotional intimacy that made me feel his absence even more acutely. It made me sad. The only explanation I could think of was that finding out I was going to marry Morelli took the pressure off so Ranger felt safe letting me in, but that didn't really explain why he was keeping his distance.

We parked three doors up from Buddy's apartment building. It was an old redbrick four-storey walk-up that had been heading toward slum status for at least three decades. The parking brake wrestled with me again and I left it with the wheels turned into the curb. If I ever had enough money, I'd have to replace everything under the hood.

I tucked my handcuffs into the waistband of my shorts, the pepper spray into my back pocket. I didn't think Buddy would give us any trouble but better safe than sorry. My gun was in my cookie jar keeping Rex safe and I hoped Lula would keep hers in her bag. I locked my pocketbook in the trunk and put the keys in my pocket so my hands were free. We climbed up three flights.

Lula was anxious. "You think this is safe? I bet he has guard dogs. I don't think we should go up there. You better not get your skinny, white ass in trouble and expect me to save you. Uh oh. I can hear dogs in there." Lula's eyes got wide. "They sound nasty. Don't they sound nasty? I think those are vicious dogs in there. Listen. One of them is scratching at the door."

Buddy opened up with five dogs behind him, all smiley and waggy-tailed at his heels. Lula backed up a couple of steps.

"Can I help you?" Buddy was wearing surfer shorts in a wild tropical flower design with hippie sandals. He was a couple inches taller than me with muscles that were whiplash lean but he looked awful, with bleary, dark-shadowed eyes peering out from under a mop of sun-bleached hair and he had some serious George Michael perma-stubble going. You'd think someone who practiced yoga daily so he could bend himself into a pretzel would take better care of himself.

"I'm Stephanie Plum and I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. You missed your court date."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn't get there, I was teaching at a retreat. And when I got back I found Raja was poisoned and we had to rush him to the vet. It was touch and go. A steak baited with rat poison. Can you believe it? There are people in this world so low they'd poison a dog."

"Geez! Is the dog okay?" I stepped into the apartment and a big, gray, hairy mongrel moved forward to sniff my leg, then moved his snout to my crotch, making me skip away.

"Yeah, he pulled through. It's been tough, though. I sat up with him night and day for the last forty eight hours. Thought I was going to lose him."

The shaggy gray head was heading back to my crotch. If this was Raja, he seemed pretty frisky for a dog that had been on the brink of death. I pushed him away with one hand and reached back to pull out the handcuffs from the band of my shorts. "Well, I need to take you down to reschedule."

He jumped backwards as I tried to snap a cuff on him then he slapped the cuffs right out of my hand. "No! Raja still needs care and I'm responsible for these guys. I'm not going!"

The chihuahuas were starting to growl, picking up on Buddy's agitation. I walked over to my cuffs and picked them up, taking care not to turn my back on the crotch sniffer. He was starting to get an excited look in his eyes that worried me. "Don't you have a friend who can help? A neighbor? It won't take long. I'll call the Bonds office and get Vinnie to come bail you out right away."

"Dude, it's bad karma to tell fibs like that; I know they won't let me out that fast." The cuff snapped on empty air as he jumped back and one of the chihuahuas started an ear-piercing, high-pitched barking while another attacked my ankles.

Buddy bolted out the front door with Lula on his heels. In my heart of hearts I knew she was running away from the dogs, not chasing our skip. Buddy's disappearance signaled a free-for-all. The chihuahuas attacked my ankles, snapping like miniature wolves. The bloodhound was gumming the hand holding the handcuffs and savoring the flavor rather than trying to do any damage. Meanwhile, the shaggy gray mongrel had jumped up at me with his front paws around my hips and was humping for all he was worth with his eyes closed.

The dogs had cut me off from the door. I shook the chihuahuas off my ankles, wishing I'd worn my CAT boots, pulled my hand out of the gumming mouth and fought off the horny dog. I backed towards the open door of the old fire escape right behind me. I stepped out and managed to pull the door closed, shaking the chihuahuas off my foot. The bloodhound jumped up to paw the door and I heard the lock snib. Uh oh.

"Didn't I tell you not to go up there? Didn't I say I could hear those dogs through the door?" Lula had come around the back of the building and was standing on the hard-packed patch of dirt below me, hands on her hips and an impatient look on her face.

"I told you! I said, 'girl, you gonna get in trouble and expect me to save your skinny, white ass.' " Lula was all talk. She couldn't save a fried chicken drumstick for dinner.

"What am I going to do?" I asked. "Think of something."

"Go back through the door. Them chihuahuas are rodent-sized, they can't do you no harm. The big hairy guy just wants a little fun with you and the bloodhound can only gum you a little. Pick the lock or something." I shook my head. I didn't have a lock pick tool for the excellent reason that I can't pick locks. Anyway, I didn't want to be gummed, humped, or gnawed at by rodents. I'd tried it already and it didn't live up to the advertising.

"You could break the window and use the pepper spray on the dogs."

"I dropped the pepper spray in the apartment when the dogs were chasing me." Along with the handcuffs. "Anyway, I can't spray the dogs. It would be mean, and Buddy might snap and kill me for it when he comes back."

Lula shook her head. "He ain't coming back! You're going to have to call Ranger. This is a Batman rescue situation."

"I'm not calling him." My direct line to the bat cave had been disconnected and I felt awkward about broadcasting it. Tank would turn up, Lula would ask questions, Tank would spill and Lula would never let up.

Lulu started tapping her foot. "Well, I can't wait here all day. Tankie's taking me out for dinner and dancing tonight and I got a lot of preparations. And I'm hungry. You're stressing me out."

"Maybe you could come up through the front door and let me out?" Like that was going to happen. Lulu looked at me like I'd had magic mushrooms on my steak.

"You can climb down the pipes," Lula suggested. I looked to the right and saw the downpipes from the roof guttering about three feet beyond the rickety balcony. They looked rusty and the brackets holding them to the brickwork were missing some bolts.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going to plunge three flights to my death. That pipe won't hold me."

'Sure it will. You don't weigh hardly nothing at all. Wouldn't hold a full-bodied woman like me but you're a cinch. And I'll be down here to catch you."

Huhn. Lula would jump out the way screaming like a girl and feel bad about it afterward. I couldn't think of an alternative though, so I took a breath and climbed up onto the railing. I hugged the brickwork with my eyes closed tight and gave myself a pep talk. All I had to do was grab with both hands, leverage my sneakers against the wall and catwalk my way down. I'd seen them do this in the movies. I just had to hope the familiar round of vertigo wouldn't strike me.

I took a deep breath, leaned out and grabbed the pipe with one hand and then the other, holding on like my life depended on it, which it did. All I had to do now was let my legs swing across and get a grip with my rubber soles. I shut my eyes again and jumped my feet off the rail. My sneakers hit the brickwork and for maybe two heartbeats I was convinced it would work. I focused on my balance and moved one foot down the wall. Success! Then I shifted weight and everything went kaflooie.

My feet slipped and my arms couldn't hold my weight so I dropped flat against the bricks, my hands curled around the pipe in a death grip. The bolts holding the brackets gave way with little pinging sounds as the old, rusted pipe bent in on itself in slow motion, swinging me down and out wide over the yard towards the fence and the alley behind it.

Lula and I screamed in harmony as I flew in a gentle arc through the air, dangling from the pipe with my legs flailing. The down pipe smashed against the paling fence and shook me loose directly over the dumpster in the alley. The garbage bags were all puffy with gas from the garbage fermenting in the heat all morning. When I hit them, they burst with a spray of hot, foul odors and slime. At least it was a soft landing.

I lay stunned but alive, wondering how it was that once again I had ended up in the garbage. Lula's face appeared above the dumpster, her eyes wide, her face pale and her hair a golden halo against the blue sky.

"Holy shit! Holy Mac! Holy Mary mother of God! Talk to me! You better not be dead!" She put her hand over her mouth, gagging at the stench wafting up.

I threw a glare at her. "This is your fault! You said to climb down the down pipe!"

"I didn't expect you to do it! I got lots of ideas, I'm the ideas generator of this outfit, but I don't claim they're all foolproof."

I took a deep breath and gagged and winced at the same time. Something was jabbing me in the ribs. I reached gingerly to remove it and brought out a slimy, decaying soup bone with unidentifiable gray bits clinging to it.

"Help," I mouthed, unable to get a sound out from gagging.

"Okay, but don't get any of that stuff on me. Last time I couldn't get the smell out of my clothes. I had to throw them out."

Between the two of us, I hauled out and we stood around trying to stop ourselves from retching. I shook myself down as best as I could and used one of the towels I kept in the trunk for Bob to wipe myself down. I draped a second towel over the driver's seat to minimize contamination. My shoes and socks were beyond redemption so I left them in the dumpster and drove bare foot.

I dropped Lula at the office and went home to put a substantial dent in the water table. Luckily the Mustang was an open air vehicle so I made it without passing out on the way from the stench of myself.

I thought about Buddy while I washed my hair.

Buddy was a true dog lover who took his obligations seriously. He might not go back to his apartment but he'd make sure a friend got the dogs to him somehow. And most people are creatures of habit. Now he was back from the yoga guru retreat and the sick dog was better, he'd probably pick up his usual routines. According to Binky's background search, Buddy's routine included walking the dogs along the river park every afternoon.

I dried myself off and dressed in clean shorts and tank. I didn't have another pair of sneakers and it was too hot to wear CAT boots so I slipped on a pair of flat strappy sandals. Lunch was next. I wasn't actually hungry but I hadn't eaten all day. I'd run out of peanut butter, but I had olives and some green stuff and some all-fat yellow cheese. I made myself a Ranger-style sandwich and ate most of it over the sink while I called Lula.

"I think I know where Buddy's going to be this afternoon. You coming with me to get him?"

"Sure. Connie and me are just finishing lunch. You can pick me up here. And if he sets any of his dogs on us, I'm gonna shoot 'em."

"No shooting! And ask Connie to get me another pair of cuffs from the back room while Vinnie's not watching."

I gave Rex the leftover crust and most of the green stuff I'd picked out of the sandwich and took off for Morelli's. Bob would be staying with me while Morelli was undercover any way so I figured I'd take Bob with me to the doggie walk to help me blend in. Bob was all smiley-faced in the back seat with his ears and tongue flapping in the breeze as I headed to the bonds office to pick up my partner in crime and replacement Fugitive Apprehension gear.

Technically, it wasn't Buddy's fault I'd almost plunged to my death and landed in the garbage but the humiliation had gotten me good and mad. I had him in my sights now. I was a woman on the edge. Buddy Hoffmeier was going down.

_TBC_

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	16. Chapter 16

**A/N **The characters you recognize are the creations and property of Janet Evanovich and I use them without permission. I derive no profit from their use. (That's not entirely true; I do get my jollies from playing with them.)

With thanks to **Dee** and **JannyB** for the wonderful job they do keeping me honest (and grammatically correct). Dee was on vacation while this chapter was in preparation so Janny held the fort on her own. Hope you had a great time, Dee!

I'm very grateful for every review and PM. Keep 'em coming! Feedback is very nourishing.

* * *

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 16: Wheels in motion**

'Is this gonna take long? I still got to get ready for my hunka burning love.' Lula was trying to keep Bob from jumping into the front seat from the back.

'It shouldn't. Buddy walks the dogs down by the river near the stadium for about an hour every day, around two in the afternoon. We'll go down with Bob and just mooch around until he shows up.' I pulled off John Filch Way into the almost empty parking lot next to Waterfront Park.

The stadium car park was undergoing maintenance work that was supposed to have been completed months before baseball season began. The city was installing a low, decorative stone wall where the lot overlooked the river and upgrading the landscaping. The last of the concrete bollards near the southern end of the lot had been removed and the temporary holes in the ground were flagged with traffic hazard tape, leaving an unhindered slope down to the water.

There was a pedestrian track straight down from the south west edge of the car park to the river, that was used by joggers and dog-lovers. I cruised into a slot as close to the pedestrian track as I could, next to a bright red dune buggy. Bob leapt up and down, barking and whimpering in the back seat, delirious with excitement. There was no curb to turn the wheel into so I wrestled with the park brake until it held.

Lula got out to admire the buggy. 'Isn't this the cutest thing you ever saw? I love these things! I didn't think they were street legal, though. Wouldn't do you no good in the winter time either.'

'Hold Bob while I lock up.' I snapped on his lead and she held him at arm's length while I geared up. Handcuffs in the band of my shorts, pepper spray in one back pocket, phone and keys in the other. I locked my pocketbook into the trunk and was ready to roll.

'Let's go,' I said, heading towards the doggie path.

'Just hold your britches, girlfriend, I'm busy here for a minute.' I turned, curious. Lula was looking past the buggy at an old, tan Suburban that had pulled in about five slots up.

A tall, golden hunk of man in jeans and white tank that hugged some outstanding musculature had stepped out of the driver's door and was holding Lula's attention. He had on a ball cap, he was carrying a paperback book and a bottle of water and his ass looked damn fine in the fitted denim. He walked to the nearest section of newly built wall and sat facing the river. He got comfortable, uncapped the bottle to take a slug and opened up his book.

Lula and I let out dual, appreciative sighs.

Lula said, 'Mmmn-mmmn! I wouldn't mind me some of that. What do you think he's reading?'

'It's either the biography of Michael Jordan or the latest Jack Reacher thriller.' It was an incontrovertible truth held by Trenton men that testosterone and reading are compatible only when it came to sports or gritty crime fiction.

We got back to business. Bob pulled at the lead, dragging Lula behind him, and we walked down the path maybe twenty yards to the river. It was well-used and graveled, with grass growing on either side beneath the trees and shrubs that dotted the embankment. The hunky guy sitting on the wall above us looked just as good from below and front on. He was splitting his attention between his book and admiring the river view.

Bob nosed the undergrowth, his tail beating a mile a minute, while Lula and I checked out the joggers and dog-walkers. Lula got bored fast.

'Did you bring any food? I'm getting hungry. And it's hot down here. There ain't no breeze. You bring anything to drink?'

'We're not here for a picnic. We're looking to apprehend a skip.'

'Yeah, well, standing around admiring the scenery is getting old. There ain't nothing to do and nowhere to sit.'

I looked up and down the path. There was a bench a little way further north towards the stadium. 'Let's go sit over there. We'll be less conspicuous sitting down.'

We moved to the bench. I let Bob off the lead so he could exercise without me. Lula picked up a broken off switch with broad leaves on it to fan herself. My phone vibrated against my backside and I leapt up to fish it out of my pocket.

'Hey Grandma.' I sat back down.

'Can you give me a ride to Stiva's tonight? Betty Greenburg was going to take me but she fell over in the bathroom and broke her ankle. Snapped like a twig.'

'Gee, is she okay?'

'She's got a cast on it and won't be able to drive for weeks. I tell you, life sucks when you get old.'

'I can come get you around seven.'

'Come at six and you can have dinner with me. Your mother's got another catering class and Frank's eating at the club.'

'Okay.'

'Are you going to see Paco Lopez before our meeting tomorrow? And you know everyone is coming here to the house instead of Betty Szajak's, right?'

'Yeah, you told me. I'm meeting him for coffee first and then I'll bring him over.'

'We should ask him to stay for dinner; sweet talk him to get a better deal.' I rolled my eyes. I was going to have to prep Paco some more to make sure he survived Grandma.

Lula elbowed me in the ribs and pointed up the path with her chin. Buddy was strolling towards us with two dogs. I recognized one of them as the bloodhound with the gummy mouth but I hadn't seen the other one, a sleek, powerful-looking tawny dog. Buddy was talking to the tawny dog and scratching him behind the ears as they walked.

'I've gotta go, Grandma. My skip just turned up.'

'If he gives you any trouble, shoot him in the patoose. You've only got that tiny little handgun. There's lots of insulation back there to absorb a small caliber bullet so it won't kill him. I learned that on the police channel.'

'I'll keep it mind.' I snapped the phone shut without telling her my gun was back home in the cookie jar.

Lula was nervous. 'I don't like the look of that big dog. He looks like he could make a snack outta me. Maybe I should go wait in the car.'

'Shh! Don't move. We don't want him to notice us until he's closer. I don't want to have to chase him; he's in better shape than I am.' That wasn't saying much.

'Hunh. No eatin', no shootin', no movin', no talkin'. You're mighty bossy today.'

We tried to look relaxed on the bench and watched Buddy stroll towards us, his attention on his two dogs. He looked up and saw Bob nosing in the grass. Buddy's head swiveled as he looked for the dog's owner, landed on Lula and me and he smiled and waved.

Hunh. Not the anticipated response. I looked back along the path behind me but there were no yoga fanatics strolling to meet Buddy. Must be smiling at us. Maybe he didn't recognize me from this morning. Still smiling, Buddy walked right up to where we sat.

'Stephanie Plum. Dougie was right; you're really good at this finding people stuff.'

'You know Dougie?' I asked. He was still sporting the George Michael perma-stubble and fatigued red-rimmed eyes but he had a great smile that opened and relaxed his face.

'Sure. I'm his guru, you know. I crashed at his place for a couple hours and then he let me swap out my mini for a beach buggy. Did you see it in the lot?'

Lula said, 'That cute little red thing? Steph's parked right next to it. I always wanted to ride in one of those. Don't look like there's much room in it, though. You think a full figured woman like me would ride comfortable in it?' she asked.

Buddy shrugged. 'I'll give you a ride if you want so you can try it out.'

He sat on the bench next to me. Bob wandered over to sniff hello and then got neighborly with the other dogs. The three of them started circling and sniffing butts, tails wagging.

'I still need to take you into the station to be re-bonded.' I reminded him. 'If we go now you'll be out again this afternoon.'

Buddy sighed. 'Yeah, I know. I was going to call you after I walked the dogs to arrange it. Dougie said I could trust you. I can trust you, can't I?'

Lula reassured him. 'Sure you can trust her. She's only sneaky when her other options don't work.'

'I'll call Connie to meet us there and she'll bond you right out again.' I was ready to play nice. He was a friend of Dougie's, he was cooperating and Bob liked him. He was licking Buddy's face while Buddy scratched him behind the ears.

'I've got Queenie and Raja here, though, and Raja's still pretty weak. I need to get him home,' Buddy said.

Raja was the big, tawny one. He sat quietly at our feet and looked pretty good for a dog recovering from rat poison. I considered the options. A cooperative skip was better than one I had to chase up and down the riverside. I didn't want to risk losing him and the bond money.

'Okay, so how about this. Lula takes you to the station in your buggy and gets you re-bonded, and I'll take Queenie and Raja back to my place with Bob. I'll look after them for a couple hours until you're out.' I figured Lula would prefer Buddy's company to taking the dogs, even if it meant a trip to the cop shop was involved.

Buddy smiled. 'That would be cool.'

Lula whooped. 'Hot damn! I get a buggy ride!' She and Buddy high-fived.

We all got up to walk the short distance back to the car park. Raja got a second wind and the three dogs raced ahead of us to chase across the lot. We called them over and they raced back and circled the cars. Bob jumped into the Mustang and the other two jumped in after him so the car bounced up and down as the dogs wrestled in the front seat. Buddy whistled shrilly and they all jumped out and raced back to us at the entrance to the pedestrian path. Buddy's two sat at his heels panting and I snagged Bob by the collar. I attached his lead, looked up and saw the Mustang on the move twelve feet away.

The dogs must have dislodged the park brake. My car rolled past without so much as a goodbye, gained momentum and accelerated down the short embankment, collecting the hazard tape on the way like bunting, to swan-dive straight into the river. Lula, Buddy and I watched open-mouthed in silent disbelief as the car sank and the surface of the river boiled and bubbled up around it. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than five or six seconds.

'Well, damn!' Lula broke the silence.

The good-looking hunk sitting on the wall flashed an appraising eye over at us and whipped out his cell phone. He started talking fast into the handset. I sank down onto the grass and stared at the bubbling water. Lula and Buddy sat next to me.

'So what do we do now, white girl?'

I shook my head slowly. 'I have no idea. I've never drowned a car before. Usually I don't have to do anything; there's a big explosion and someone calls the smokies and the cops and it's taken care of.'

Buddy cleared his throat. 'I hope it wasn't anything my dogs did. I feel really bad about this.'

'Nope, not your fault. Technically, maybe it was the dogs but Steph loses four or five cars a year to freak accidents. She was about due.' Lula's explanation was matter of fact and depressing. I sighed.

The purr of a powerful engine approaching made us all turn around. A sleek, new, black Mercedes convertible with the top up pulled into the slot that had just been vacated by my Mustang. The door opened and Ranger stepped out. It was five minutes tops since the car hit the water.

My little heart went pitter-pat. There have been times when Ranger was in the wind and I didn't see him for months so not seeing him for three weeks shouldn't be such a big deal. It was though. It felt like a long overdue reunion.

'Batman, you got perfect timing. White girl here needs rescuing.'

Ranger acknowledged Lula with a glance, flicked across Buddy then ran his eyes over me carefully. Satisfied that I was undamaged, he did something odd. He turned to look at the guy sitting on the wall. The guy looked back at him and the two of them exchanged a tiny, Rangeman-patented chin nod. Hunh. I'd bet everything I owned that the guy's urgent phone call had been to Rangeman.

I kept my cool as Ranger approached, like this was no big deal. Another day, another car death.

'Babe.'

'Hey, Rrrico.'

Ranger's footfall faltered for a micro-second and one eyebrow twitched up.

Lula whipped her head around. 'Rico? Who the hell is Rico? You talking to Ranger?'

I shrugged. 'I've been test-driving some names.'

Lula muttered into my ear, 'You're a real imp of the perverse, you know that?'

I looked up at Ranger standing over me with his hands on his hips and eyes hinting at laughter.

'Take a seat, Rrrico.'

Ranger stared at me for a beat. 'Babe.'

The message that _Rico _wasn't going to fly any better than _Carlito_ or _Ricardo_ came through loud and clear. I bit my lip and Ranger's mouth twitched.

He sat on the grass next to me, knees bent and resting his forearms over his knees. We all watched the last of the air bubbles from the submerged car escape to the surface. Ranger turned his head to me.

'Have you called the appropriate services?'

I shook my head. 'Hasn't been time and I didn't know who to call anyway.'

Ranger took out his cell, gave Tank a stream of instructions and turned back to me.

'You okay, Babe?'

I shrugged. 'At least it has novelty value. It didn't blow up this time. My pocketbook is in the trunk, though.' I sighed.

Ranger smiled and reached over to tuck my hair behind my ear then ran the back of his fingers along my jaw. I got a shiver. Probably the after-shock of losing my car.

'It's not important. All that stuff is replaceable, Babe, but you're not. Are you okay?' he asked again.

I nodded. 'Yeah.' Ranger's in person pep talks were even better than his phone pep talks.

'What were your plans for the rest of the day?'

'Lula was going to take Buddy into the station and I was supposed to take the dogs back to my place until he's bonded out again. And then I was going to dinner with Grandma before taking her to Stiva's.'

'How about Lula takes Buddy as planned, Hank takes all three dogs back to Buddy's until he's re-bonded and we stay here until the official business is sorted?'

'Who's Hank?'

Ranger turned his head towards the guy on the wall and gave him a barely-there head nod. The guy ambled over and squatted down next to us.

'Babe, this is Hank. He's been with Rangeman almost three months. Hank, this is Stephanie Plum.'

I flashed Ranger a look and Ranger responded with an eyebrow twitch. Words would be exchanged later about Hank's coincidental presence in my vicinity.

'Pleased to meet you, Ms Plum.' Hank smiled and it was pretty. I heard Lula's appreciative _mmmn-mmmn_ in my ear.

'Hi. Just Stephanie will do. This is my partner, Lula.' Hank's smile broadened. Lula was as infamous at Rangeman as I was.

'Buddy, are you okay with Hank taking the dogs to your apartment?' Ranger asked.

Buddy was okay with it. He fished his keys out of his pocket and gave them to Hank, who led the three dogs to the Suburban to load them in back. Lula and I watched his fine ass all the way.

Ranger chuckled under his breath. 'Babe.'

Lula was already on the phone to Connie as she and Buddy got into his buggy to head to Trenton PD. The first of the emergency vehicles pulled into the lot as the buggy peeled out.

Ranger got up and went into a huddle with them to explain the situation. There was some preliminary paperwork to sign and then they went to work, setting up a safety perimeter and their equipment. Ranger came back to where I was sitting. He stretched out his long legs, ankles crossed, and leaned back on his elbows, completely at ease like a cat in the sun.

Big Dog and Carl Costanza pulled their cop car in next to the Mercedes and they got out with big smiles on their faces.

'Good to see you, Steph. Did you bring beer and pretzels?' Carl was chuckling. I poked my tongue out at him.

They were ready to have a little friendly fun at my expense but they sobered up fast when they caught the sudden, hard expression on Ranger's face. They got my story for the insurance report and left without a single word spoken about who won the Stephanie disaster payout.

Ranger watched me watching the salvage operation. I've lost so many cars to freak accidents and explosions that I can usually take the loss in stride but the drowning of my Mustang felt devastating. I was already fragile with all the wedding stuff and the imminent loss of my independence. The car death was the last straw.

'We don't have to wait around, Babe. I've given them instructions for the car and they'll deliver any valuables they salvage to Rangeman. It's all taken care of. We can go.'

I nodded. 'Okay.'

Ranger stood in one, smooth movement and took my hand to pull me up. He held on to it longer than he needed to and his eyes flicked down at my fingers. My engagement ring was at home, in its little glass bowl next to the sink. We stood looking at each other for a moment then he tugged me toward the car and held the door open for me.

Ranger usually drives in silence, in his zen zone. This time he slipped a CD into the player and soft Cuban jazz drifted through the car. It was soothing; I was cocooned in soft leather, the car moved like it ran on double cream instead of gas, the music insinuated its rhythm and the subtle scent of Ranger distracted me from dwelling on the negative. Ranger was monitoring me with little glances in my direction.

'Why have you got Hank watching me?' I asked, unable to stay quiet any longer.

'Tank's in charge of your security.'

'You mean Tank put someone on me? Why?'

'He knows your safety is important to me.'

'But I haven't got any crazies on my tail.' Except for my rose stalker but there hadn't been any more roses in almost two weeks and no one but me knew about it anyway. 'My safety isn't at issue right now.'

Ranger threw me a look. Right. Tank was probably worried I'd break a nail and Ranger would retaliate by having his nails pulled out with pliers.

'Hank's not in uniform. And he was driving an old, tan Suburban.'

Ranger flashed me a heart-stopping smile but didn't explain. He didn't have to, I could work it out for myself – Hank was in civvies so I wouldn't catch on to the tail. I'd gotten pretty good at spotting black SUVs driven by muscle-bound guys in black.

I realized there was a more significant question Ranger hadn't answered. 'Why is _Tank_ in charge of me?'

Why wasn't it Ranger, just as it had always been? He still had my back, I knew, but his physical presence was glaringly lacking. Seeing him today had underscored that for me.

Ranger looked at me for a long moment. He turned back to the road and answered in a soft voice. 'I'm trying not to crowd you, Babe.'

The best of reasons. He was being a gentleman. I was engaged and Ranger was backing off the pressure, allowing me an appropriate distance. It should have made me happy that Ranger was so thoughtful about respecting my decision but it didn't. It made me realize that distance from Ranger was a very bleak prospect.

I sighed and sank back into my seat, looked out of my window. We were nearly back at my apartment. I'd have to get ready to take Grandma to the viewing. Uh oh. How would we get there? My car was being fished out of the bottom of the Delaware. There was only one option.

'Ranger, can you take me to my parents instead? I need to pick up the Buick.' I couldn't stop the grimace.

Ranger didn't slow down, didn't change direction, didn't hesitate for a beat. 'You don't need the Buick, Babe.'

'Ranger, I need a car. Joe took his SUV with him and the Buick is the only other option.'

Ranger pulled into my lot and parked in the slot right in front of the door. Batman parking voodoo. 'Take the Mercedes.'

I gaped at him. 'I can't take your car!'

'Why not?' He turned off the engine and swiveled, resting one arm on the steering wheel and the other along the back of the seat.

'I kill cars! I've already killed several of yours. There's no way I'm going to risk your new Mercedes.'

'We've talked about this. Cars are replaceable, Babe. They're not important, you are. And you hate Big Blue.' He flashed me his heart-stopping smile.

I sighed. 'Yeah, but Big Blue is indestructible. Ranger, I can't take your car.'

He shrugged. 'Take it until Morelli gets back on Sunday and you can swap it out for his SUV.'

'It's not...appropriate.'

His face shut down. 'Why is it not appropriate?'

'You know why.'

We looked at each other across the short space in silence.

'I bought this car with you in mind, Babe.'

I frowned as I worked out what he meant by that. 'You were expecting me to kill off another car? That kinda sucks, Ranger.'

He twitched his head sideways. 'Babe. Your Mustang was old and in bad shape. It was inevitable that you'd need to replace it sooner rather than later, just from wear and tear. I know you like convertibles so I chose to extend the Rangeman fleet with this one for you.'

Wow. Ranger generosity on an overwhelming scale. 'You bought this car for me?'

Ranger's eyes were warm, the almost-smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 'Yeah.'

'Why?' I asked.

'You know why.'

No, I didn't. There was no chance for me to ask him because my cell rang with Morelli's ring tune. It rang four times before I had my head together enough to answer. My voice was shaky and my eyes glued on Ranger.

'Hey, Joe.'

'Hey, Cupcake. I have five minutes of privacy so I grabbed the chance to call you. How's my girl?'

In my peripheral vision, I saw the black SUV roll into the lot with Tank behind the wheel. Ranger took my free hand, lifted it to his mouth to kiss my palm. Then he slipped out of the car, leaving the key in the ignition, and walked across to the SUV. He turned around to throw me a smile, got in and Tank drove him out of my lot.

_TBC_

_-----------_

_It's time._

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_Okay, so I want you to. Go on. Just do it._


	17. Chapter 17

_Disclaiming any rights to the use of characters created by Janet Evanovich._

_My gratitude to Dee, JannyB and Magdalync for feedback, criticism, picking up my random Australianisms and errant typos._

_Apologies for taking so long to update. There were some family crises that demanded all my focus and energy. Not yet over, so updates will be a little slow for a while but I hold to my promise that I will see this story through to the end._

_Thank you to all those who reviewed and PMed - and don't stop now!  
_

* * *

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 17**

'The Mustang died,' I blurted out before my brain was in gear. My palm tingled with Ranger's soft kiss and the heat from it radiated to all the secret parts of me. I closed my hand and dragged my concentration back to the phone conversation.

I heard Morelli's weary intake of breath and my stomach rolled as the vertigo hit. The nausea had not bothered me all day but it was back now. I squeezed my eyes shut against the dizziness.

'Shit, Stephanie.' His tone was a sharp little jab. 'What was it this time? A Molotov cocktail? Or did a garbage truck fall on it? Maybe a NASA satellite crashed to earth and found you in Trenton?'

My eyes snapped open but I kept my inner Italian collared. I figured Morelli was under the gun with the task force job and reacting out of a feeling of helplessness.

'No, none of those things. As a matter of fact, it was a mechanical problem,' I replied, my voice calm. I stared out the windscreen across the long, afternoon shadows of the parking lot in the direction the Explorer had taken Tank and Ranger.

'Right. And it wasn't your fault.'

My calm snapped. 'Hey, you better watch your tone, Morelli!'

He blew out air. There was a long silence and I heard the low hum of traffic noise beyond the buzz of the phone. 'Okay. I'm sorry. I hate when these things happen to you, that's all. Are you okay? Was anyone injured?'

'I'm fine and no one was injured.'

'Want to tell me what happened?'

I took a big breath but the air I sucked in didn't energize me. 'Lula and I were looking for a skip down at Waterfront Park. Bob dislodged the parking brake and the car nose-dived into the river.'

'It drowned?' A hint of good humor crept into his voice. 'Look, I'm sorry, Steph. Really. I'm sorry you lost the car. It was just an unlucky break.'

'Yeah, but I really liked that car.'

'I know. But it was in bad shape.'

I let out a sigh and felt myself soften. Mrs Balog walked around the Mercedes on her way to the dumpster. She checked out the car and gave me a thumbs up.

'How're you doing, Cupcake? Really.'

'A little deflated but I'll be fine. I'm used to it.'

'We'll replace it with something better, maybe a Mini with a soft top. The Mustang won't be worth fixing even if it's salvageable. Where did they tow it?'

'I don't know, Ranger arranged it all.'

Silence. A long silence. Shit. Ranger's name was a silver bullet that always killed the conversation stone dead. Nausea rolled through my gut again.

'Well, you've got the Buick until I get back.' Morelli's voice was tight.

I chewed on my lip. 'Yeah, there's always Big Blue.'

'Look, I've got to get back to the team, Steph.'

'Okay.'

He sighed. 'Take care of yourself. See you Sunday.'

'Bye, Joe. Be careful.'

I hated this. Nothing would ever reconcile Morelli to Ranger being in my life, in any capacity. Even if Ranger kept his distance; even if he proved himself a friend over and over. No promise I made would make a difference. I shook my head. I would not tolerate any attempt to shut Ranger out.

I leaned across and took the key out of the ignition, stared down at it in my open palm. Ranger had bought this car for me, chose it because he knew I'd like it. Why?

_You know why._

No, I didn't. All I had was wishful thinking and day dreams and I wasn't falling back on that.

So what do I know? I know Ranger is very generous. I know he always has my back. I know Ranger takes care of his people and feels responsible for me as my mentor. And I know he's a control freak, a trait which extends to obsessive oversight of my safety – this car probably had every tracking device known to man and then some.

What else? I know he respects my research skills and intuition, so maybe he was trying to tempt me back to Rangeman with a deal-sweetener. Or, maybe he was counting on me to kill off the car as a tax break. Who knows with Ranger? He's a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

The sensible thing to do was to swap out the dream machine for Big Blue tonight, when I went to pick up Grandma. But I didn't want to. I ran my hand across the dash. It was a great car. A lust-inducing car. That wasn't it, though. This was _Ranger's_ car. That's what made it irresistible.

I closed my hand tightly over the car key. Three days. I'd give it back on Sunday. I wouldn't think about Ranger's motives or dwell on the warmth in his eyes when he gave it to me. I'd accept his generosity and dream a little dream.

Upstairs, Rex was sleeping in his soup can. The temptation to follow his example beckoned but I had just enough time to shower and change before picking up Grandma. I ran through the shower, dried my hair fast. There was no time for elaborate styling so I poured on some product and slicked it back into an easy French roll. I swiped on mascara and lip gloss, threw on a sleeveless dress in deep blue, found matching heels and I was good to go for a funeral viewing.

The smart key unlocked the car door at my approach and I slipped into the driver's seat. Soft leather enveloped me and a faint trace of Bulgari teased me. I adjusted all the levers for height and comfort, investigated the dash, found the button I was looking for and the top folded back with the quiet murmur of meticulous German engineering. I started the engine purring and soft Cuban jazz surrounded me through six state-of-the-art speakers. The smile didn't leave my face all the way to dinner.

oOo

The viewing was open casket and Doris Szuch had already cornered the market on the widower, so the level of excitement at Stiva's wasn't enough to keep Grandma for long. I dropped her home by eight thirty and was back at my apartment before nine.

Hank pulled into the lot behind me in a black Explorer. Now that the tail was no longer clandestine, he was dressed in Rangeman black. He walked over while I closed the Roadster's roof.

'Hi, Hank. I'm in for the night now, so you're off the hook.'

He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the dusk. 'No problem. I've got your pocketbook for you.'

He handed it over and I checked it out. It looked like it had been drowned in a river and then dried out carefully with some secret Ella drying voodoo, which was exactly what had happened. Maybe if I rubbed it over with some leather conditioner I could resurrect it. Ella had done her best with the contents but most of them would need replacing.

'I'm supposed to give you these.' Hank held out a clear plastic bag containing a pen, a strange-looking tie pin, a can of pepper spray, two pairs of handcuffs and the tiniest, slickest stun gun I'd ever seen. I looked up at him.

'The pen and the clip are trackers,' Hank explained. Big surprise. 'Tank asked if you could please keep the pen in your handbag and keep the personal GPS on your person.'

Trackers on the car, tracker in my purse, tracker on my body. Holy mackerel! There was no point in arguing with Hank, he was just the messenger. My problem lay with his over-protective bosses. I sighed and took the bag.

'Thanks, Hank. You going to be trailing me around for long?'

He shrugged and his neck vanished. 'I guess so. Tank hasn't told me otherwise.'

'Okay. I'll be going into the office at the usual time so you don't need to be here before nine.'

'Won't be me, I'm the afternoon shift. Snake has the morning. He'll take over at seven.'

I didn't know Snake. I shook my head. Tank was being doubly sneaky, putting men on me whose faces I wouldn't recognize out of Rangeman black.

'I can't believe Tank is taking out two men to babysit me.'

Hank said nothing but his eyes got shifty. I replayed his previous comment.

'Wait. Snake will take over? You're saying there's a night shift? Three men?'

Hank said nothing.

'Are you shitting me? Tank's got a twenty four hour watch on me?'

Hank's face shut down. He wasn't going to let anything else slip.

I clamped down the rising temper tantrum and blew out air. 'Never mind. Good night, Hank.'

'Good night, Steph. See you tomorrow.'

Not if I could help it.

Putting a 24/7 protection on me was certifiably crazy. Tank wouldn't listen to reason, though; he'd say he was given a job to do and pass the buck to Ranger, who would pass it right back again by refusing to pull rank. I needed a secret weapon and I had the perfect one.

I remote locked the car and enjoyed the view as Hank walked back to the Explorer. He wouldn't leave until the night shift got there, so I gave him a little finger wave and headed upstairs.

I hit the speed dial. 'Hey, Lula. You know Hank? Yeah, Hank the Hunk. Tank's got him and two other guys on me round the clock and I need your help to shake them off.'

oOo

My apartment was a sweatbox after days of unrelenting heat so I took another shower and stayed under the cool stream of water until I got bored. I air-dried instead of using a towel to stay cool just a little longer and padded into the kitchen in the sarong Mary Lou had brought back for me from her Hawaiian honeymoon.

I wondered whether Tank expected me to clip my personal GPS to my sarong. Lula would be correcting his expectations right about now. I already had half a dozen strategies to put into place first thing in the morning that would make Tank's life a living hell if he didn't pull the guys off.

Poor Rex was feeling the heat. I crushed an ice cube to put into his water tube and gave him three frozen peas I found rolling around the freezer. I hadn't eaten Grandma's goulash nor the chocolate mousse and my gut was still unsettled. I had been existing on saltines for almost a week – they seemed to work to keep the nausea at bay.

The fridge didn't yield anything tempting. I had peanut butter and I had olives but the idea of putting them together didn't appeal. I took the last cold bottle of water and a cracker and climbed out through my bedroom window to the fire escape.

There was no cloud cover. The moon was just rising over the horizon and the occasional gust of night breeze was gentle. I couldn't see Hank's Explorer and wondered whether Lula had already managed to call off the watch or whether the night shift was parked somewhere in the shadows.

The gleaming Mercedes in the lot below me made me smile. I leaned back against the brickwork as I drank my water, thinking about Ranger's decision to buy me a car, and keep watch over me, and call me every night. My stomach settled.

My lids were having trouble staying open when I heard the Batman theme call faintly from inside. I almost decapitated myself diving through the window. The bed was in the way and I tumbled over it to the floor, scrambling on all fours to race to the phone on the kitchen counter next to Rex's ranchero.

'Hey, Hot Stuff,' I panted.

The silence on the line lasted so long I checked the screen in case I'd missed the call. Nope, the line was live. I put it back to my ear.

'Babe.'

I snorted back a giggle at the incredulity in his voice. 'You don't like the name? I think it's very descriptive.'

With all the practice, I was getting pretty good at interpreting Ranger phone silence and the veto came through loud and clear. 'Okay. We'll scratch _Hot Stuff_ off the list.'

He chuckled low. 'Did I wake you, Babe? You took a while to answer.'

'No, I was trying to stay cool out on the fire escape and thinking.' I headed back to the bedroom with the phone and threw myself backwards on top of the bed, spread-eagled, where the occasional gust of air through the open window could waft over me.

'What were you thinking?'

'Lots of things.'

'Babe.'

I grinned a smug little grin. It wasn't often Ranger had to ask twice. 'I was thinking I'd keep the car until Sunday. I can't face Big Blue. So, thank you, for the car and for everything.'

'Any time. As long as you want. What else were you thinking about?'

'I figured out why you're not taking my calls. It's part of this not crowding me thing, isn't it?'

Ranger didn't answer. He didn't need to. I knew I was right.

'I wish you would. I don't want Tank to be a go-between. There are things I'd rather say to you directly.'

'What kind of things?'

My stomach clenched with nervous apprehension. 'I wanted to ask you to my housewarming in person. I spoke to Binky and he said he'd put up a notice in the lunch room. Did you see it? I want everyone to come. I want you to come. You will, won't you?'

'I have a commitment. I may still be out of town.'

My stomach dropped. 'No, no, you can't go into the wind that weekend!'

'It's not a job, Babe, it's personal.'

'Oh.' An unexpected pang twisted my gut. A personal commitment could mean anything but my suspicious mind equated it to a tryst with someone of the feminine persuasion. Damned if I wasn't jealous at the idea of a mystery woman in his life. 'Does it have to be that weekend?'

'Babe, it's a housewarming. I'm due back late Saturday but if I'm delayed we can catch up later. Besides, I'm sure the cop would prefer it if I wasn't there.'

'Joe knows better than to get between us. I mean, between me and my friends.'

'Babe.'

'I can't do it without you, Ranger.'

'Babe, you can do anything.'

Despair pooled in my stomach and my eyes started to prickle. I wondered whether he'd come if I told him it was my wedding day, or whether that would guarantee his absence. Maybe Lula was right and Ranger would prefer not to be there. It would be selfish to coerce him into coming without telling him the truth. I'd have to give him the choice, even if he chose to spend the time with some long-legged blond. My gut twisted painfully again.

'Stephanie. Breathe, Babe.'

When had I stopped breathing? I sucked in a slow breath and eased it out. I'd tell him in person, on Sunday when I took back the car. And then he'd decide whether or not to come.

'Please, Ranger. Please come,' I begged, my voice still breathless.

He gave in to the magic word. 'Okay, Babe, I promise. I'll be there.'

'You promise? Really?' The relief made me giddy. He might still change his mind after I told him but that was a problem for later. Right now, the reprieve felt like a shot of helium.

'I'll reschedule. But, Babe, you really can survive a party without me.'

I bit my lip. 'No, I can't, not this one. You don't get it because you're so good at everything.'

'Not possible, Babe. I'm human.'

'Ha! Name one thing you're not good at.'

'Intimacy.'

I snorted back a laugh. 'Yeah, right. I remember differently. I can testify to it.'

I slapped my hand over my mouth. Good grief! I had just told Ranger he was good in bed! I blushed all over. From the roots of my hair down to my toes, I radiated embarrassed heat.

His chuckle was little more than breath in my ear. 'Stroking my ego, Babe?'

I rolled to bury my face in my pillow and to stopper my mouth because it wasn't his ego I was thinking of stroking.

'I'm gratified to hear it was so good for you but I wasn't referring to sex. I'm talking about emotional intimacy. It doesn't come naturally to me. It's not something I've cultivated or wanted.'

Embarrassment battled with my curiosity and curiosity won. 'What about your family? What about friendships, relationships?'

'I've always been reserved. When I was a kid I ran with a bad crowd for a long time; it reinforced my tendency to be self-sufficient, to keep things close. Then the military took that natural inclination and refined it. Autonomy is a habit. No ties, no distractions, no complications. It's ingrained. I don't think about it, it's how I operate instinctively.'

I didn't like where this was heading. It felt like another iteration of _I don't do relationships, _although warning me off seemed pointless seeing as I was already engaged to be married to another man.

'But you've had intimate relationships. You married Rachel.' I gnawed on my lip, wondering if I'd overstepped the mark.

'Babe, Rachel was a nice girl I took advantage of and got pregnant. Neither of us had any illusions about it.'

The silence felt tense and ominous. 'So…not even your marriage involved emotional intimacy. Have there been no other women in your life?' That was absolutely impossible. He was the hottest man on earth and his testosterone levels didn't accord with celibacy.

'There have been many women but none that I allowed into my life.'

I was one of those many women. How many? It wasn't news to me but hearing it out loud was painful. A dead weight settled on my chest yet my voice was even when I responded.

'You're saying you have no interest in intimacy or relationships. Is that it? I already knew that.'

'No. I'm saying I have no experience with intimacy. I'm saying I'm not good at letting people in. I'm asking you to be patient with me while I fumble around like a toddler, learning this stuff.'

My heart stopped, restarted and commenced to dance the salsa, taking leaps and bounds.

'Oh!' It was the best I could do. Speech was impossible - a new experience for me. The silence lengthened, both of us comfortable to let it be. I lay with my eyes closed, happy to listen to Ranger's quiet breath, unwilling to break the spell by saying anything stupid.

'Are you awake, Babe?'

'Yeah. I'm laying on top of the bed but I'm awake. You?'

'In bed and awake.'

I visualized the subdued elegance of Ranger's bedroom, dominated by the huge bed. I pictured him laying back, his hair still damp and disheveled from the shower, those satin-smooth Egyptian cotton sheets pulled to his hips. He was probably naked; he only ever wears those silk boxers for my benefit. Maybe he was on top of the covers because of the heat. The soft glow of the bedside lamps would play on the silky sheen of his skin, highlighting the contours of that perfect body I had memorized...

My pulse quickened and I heard the breathy, lustful purr rising from the back of my throat. I snapped back to reality. Something fundamental had changed tonight but what and how was unclear. If I let my fantasy get out of hand I'd be abusing my shower massager all night.

'So...What are you doing? What are you thinking?'

'I'd rather know what you were thinking, Babe. It sounds like something I'd enjoy. Care to share?' His voice was husky and my belly tightened.

'Not a good idea.'

He paused then answered my questions. 'I'm thinking this is a big bed and I want you in it. And I'm not doing anything right now, but what I want to do requires your naked participation.'

Now my heart was tap-dancing again but I wasn't prepared to go down that road with Ranger yet. I opened and shut my mouth a few times before I could answer.

'Doesn't innuendo contradict your decision not to crowd me?'

'Yeah. I'm taking a time-out from that.'

'Ranger,' I sighed. The temptation to go with it was overwhelming. 'I need time to think.'

'You've had a lot of time to think, Babe.'

'I need to think about what you said to me tonight. It's new.'

He took a long, slow breath and let it out. 'Okay.'

We lapsed into silence. The calm, rhythmic sound of his breath was a soothing background to my racing thoughts, skittering around trying to figure out what it all meant, and what he was offering and what I wanted and didn't want. And then I yawned. I tried to smother it, but Ranger heard.

'Sounds like you need to sleep, Babe. Big day tomorrow with your Grandma.'

I was reluctant to end the call. I wanted to hold onto tonight, to listen to him breathing until I fell asleep but it was late and I knew Ranger would be up and running before six. He needed sleep more than I did.

'Okay. Guess we'd better call it a night, eh Tiger?'

Disbelieving Ranger silence made me smile. 'You're awful fussy. You haven't liked any of the names I came up with.'

'Babe.'

'I'm out of options. Unless you come up with an alternative, I'm back to using Ranger – or Pops.'

'Ranger sounds just right when you say it, Babe.'

_'Rrrangerrr.'_ I rolled the Rs as extravagantly as I could with my sleepy tongue. 'Does that sound Spanish?'

'It sounds sexy. If you want to use Spanish, call me_ amante_.'

_'Amante.' _I tried it out a couple times. _'Amante. _Is that a name?'

I should have paid attention during the single semester of Spanish in high school.

_'_It's a descriptive noun. Sweet dreams, Babe. I'll call you tomorrow.'

'Okay. Good night,_ Amante_.' *

_TBC_

----------

_* amante – lover_


	18. Chapter 18

_With thanks to __**JannyB, Magdalync**__ and __**Alfonsina**__ for their honest and insightful feedback. That stuff can't be bought! Thanks to __**Magdalync**__ for the soft focus lens idea, and __**RangerChic**__ for suggesting Steph could be induced to lick the leather!_

_And thank you to all those who responded so generously to my imperious request for reviews at the end of the last chapter! You all really came through and knocked my socks off! Don't stop now._

* * *

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 18: Run, baby, run**

I eased out of sleep smiling and content. My nose burrowed into my pillow, pursuing the memory of a fragrance, the unique mix of Bulgari and musky male scent. There was no trace of it and I frowned, the half-dream state dissolving as my eyes opened. Ranger had inhabited my night.

I rolled onto my back to stare up at the bedroom ceiling. The phone lay under my arm, the battery dead. I had drifted to sleep on top of the covers with Ranger's voice running through my mind and permeating my dreams.

Guilt rolled through me, followed immediately by a wave of nausea. I was moving to Morelli's in less than a week, we were getting married in two and my head was full of Ranger. Dreaming of Ranger. Aching for Ranger. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and groaned. The situation was so bad on so many levels I couldn't bear to think about it. No wonder I felt sick.

I got out of bed, in a hurry to get on with the day and keep my thoughts at bay. I plugged the phone into the charger next to the bed, shuffled into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing and checked on Rex before heading to the bathroom. I came out of the shower feeling better but the queasiness was still there. I ransacked my moving boxes to find a dress. The day was dedicated to Grandma's calendar so I could forego the skip-chasing clothes in favor of a light cotton sundress and strappy sandals.

There was no sign of a Rangeman vehicle in the lot when I peered out the window. Looked like Lula had successfully worked her magic on Tank. I poured a cup of coffee and called her to check how the plan of persuasion had played out.

'Putty in my hands. That hunk of man got a little taste of Lula and the idea of missing out on the whole honey jar was more than he could stand.'

'He caved?'

'Hell, yeah, I still got it. Tankie folded like a cheap suit. He called off the tail and I got a side order of information.'

'What did he say?'

'You been his principal, white girl, ever since you got that diamond you don't wear but last night Batman told him he don't need to run interference no more. Batman is taking over. What the hell does that mean, anyway?'

'Beats me.' My heart was skipping. I hoped it meant Ranger was taking my phone calls again.

'You coming in?' she asked.

'I'm wall to wall Grandma today but I'll come in on the way through.'

'Well, I won't count on you to bring donuts. You been overlooking the necessities lately.'

The thought of donuts made my stomach turn. I nibbled a saltine for breakfast to suppress the nausea then slathered myself in sunscreen. I planned to keep the top down on the car.

I slid into the driver's seat and just about licked the leather as the scent of Ranger hit my nose. I'd been driving with the top open so most of it had dissipated but there was enough to trigger the memory of my dream. I touched the button to slide the roof back, dropped my sunglasses on my nose and cruised out of the lot for Shoshannah Green's with Ranger's jazz CD blasting cool vibes over the whole neighborhood. I idled on the street outside her walk-up and called her cell to suggest she look out the window. The window rattled open and she leaned out wrapped in a towel.

'Stephanie Plum? Is that you driving that wet dream?' she called down.

'Yup. I have to take you in to reschedule your court date and I know you like riding in Ranger's cars.'

'Give me five. I need to put on something classy to ride in that.' She was down in three. Easy as picking low hanging fruit.

Carl and Big Dog were admiring my borrowed wheels when I came out of the station house with the body receipt. Big Dog was running his hand over the gleaming curves of the hood.

'Manoso's, right?'

'Yep. Until I work out how to replace the Mustang.'

'Does he still have the Porsches in his fleet?'

'Yeah, the Turbo and the Cayenne – he's had the Mercedes for about two months.' It had arrived in the Rangeman garage a week after I'd bought the Mustang but the coincidence hadn't struck me before Ranger told me.

Big Dog barked out a laugh. 'And he loaned it to you? Brave man. You think he'll give me a loaner next time the patrol car is in the shop?'

Carl snorted. 'I don't think he'll find your _assets_ as persuasive as Steph's.'

Carl and I went way back and his ribbing went back almost as long. He didn't mean anything by it but today I was feeling prickly and his implication crossed the line. I got in his face and poked a sharp finger into his chest.

'Hey! Do I look to you like a woman who uses her _assets_ to buy favors? Hm?' Carl frowned. He backed off a step and I stepped forward. With my three-inch heels I had an inch on him.

'Ranger's a good friend. He lent me a car because he's generous, that's all.' Ranger put no price on his friendship and, after the last few weeks, that fact stood out for me as never before.

'Okay, okay! No need to bite my head off,' Carl agreed, holding his hands up in surrender.

'I won't put up with you bad-mouthing Ranger.'

'I was kidding, Steph.' Carl's face moved between confusion and surprise that I'd shut him down. I usually rolled with it.

'Well, redirect your sense of fun. I'm tired of being the Trenton PD piñata.'

I gave him another chest poke then turned my back on him to get into the car. It wouldn't stop him and Big Dog blabbing all over the station about it. The speculation on whether Ranger collected very personal payments on my loaners would ramp up another notch. I'd have to make sure Morelli heard about the car from me next time he called.

Half an hour later I was on my way to Paco's hotel. I had checks from Connie for bringing in Shoshannah and Buddy, I had two new skip files and I had Bob in the passenger seat. He'd had a sleepover at Buddy's and Buddy had dropped him off at the Bonds office. His ears were flapping in the breeze as we drove through the city traffic. I had my hair in a ponytail – not my favorite style but convenient when driving a convertible. I found a parking space across the road from the hotel and called Paco.

'You don't mind if Andy and Meg come with us for breakfast, do you?' he asked.

'Not at all but who's Meg?'

'Andy's nanny. She's been with us about four months.'

'Sure, the more the merrier. I've got a dog with me so I can't come up.'

'We'll be down in a minute.'

Meg and Andy came out first. Andy bounced down the steps of the hotel, saw Bob all waggy-tailed and made a bee-line for him. He threw wiry, caramel arms around him and buried his face in the shaggy ginger fur. Bob reciprocated with doggy kisses, almost knocking over the six year old. Andy just laughed.

Meg held out her hand to me with a wide smile. 'I'm Meg.'

Her wavy red hair was in two loose braids with bangs almost to her eyelashes. With her milky skin scattered with freckles, big hazel eyes, denim shorts and sneakers, she looked young, bohemian and friendly.

I shook her hand and smiled back. 'I'm Stephanie.'

'Paco's told me about you. Andy and I came to Jersey with him so we could spend some time on the boardwalk. The therapist said it would be good for Andy to be introduced back to the scene with as little stress as possible.'

I nodded. I guess it was like getting back on the horse after falling – not that I'd ever been nearer a horse than the merry-go-round at Point Pleasant. Paco joined us and we walked to the breakfast place around the corner. Andy wanted to hold the leash and he and Bob were confused about who was leading whom. We sat at one of the sidewalk tables so I could keep an eye on Bob.

While they ate their eggs and hash browns, I fiddled with a slice of toast and coffee. Meg was coaxing Andy to eat, Paco following their interaction and exchanging soft glances with Meg.

'Can't I go pat Bob?' Andy asked, having eaten the negotiated amount of food on his plate. Paco glanced at Meg then nodded to Andy. The kid launched off his seat like a pocket rocket. He squatted on the sidewalk next to a very excited Bob to pet him and looked back at his dad again. 'Can I take him to play in the park? Please?'

Meg briefly touched Paco's hand and answered Andy. 'I'll finish my breakfast and I'll take you, sweetie. Just wait a minute.' Meg chewed her last mouthful of egg and swallowed her coffee. She swung a satchel onto her shoulder and stood. 'You two do whatever you need to. Bob will be fine with us, Steph. Should we wait dinner for you, Paco?' Her eyes locked onto his.

'I might be back a little late for Andy. If he's tired he doesn't have to wait up but, if you like, we can have room service together when he's asleep.'

She smiled and sped up to catch Andy. A macho figure in black came out of the diner behind us, nodded to Paco and followed them at a discreet distance. Rangeman security on Andy. Paco watched Meg until they were out of sight, Andy pulled along by Bob and Meg walking with her hand holding Andy's.

I nudged Paco with my shoulder. 'You like her.'

He flushed and grinned. 'I do.'

'And?'

'She likes me.'

'And?'

He sighed and twitched his head to the side. 'It's complicated. She's only 22; I'm 31. She works for me – I don't want to take advantage. And the situation with Alicia is ugly. Meg doesn't need to get involved in all of that.'

I shrugged. 'Don't make decisions for her, Paco. She's an adult and it's not up to you to decide whether she's making a mistake. As long as you're honest with her, it's her choice.' He patted my hand where it rested on the table next to him and looked down at it.

'You're not wearing your ring.'

I pulled my hand into my lap. 'So, what did you want to talk to me about before the meeting with Grandma and the girls?' I asked.

'Let's go back to the hotel so I can collect my stuff and we'll discuss it.'

oOo

'I got it. That is _perfect. _I'll print the photo while you get dressed.'

Paco took his camera to the desk in the sitting room of the three bedroom hotel suite. I wrapped the rich chocolate satin tightly around me for the short distance to the bathroom where I'd left my clothes.

He had transformed a corner of the master bedroom for a mini photo shoot. A sheet hung over the French doors to filter the natural light and a pile of cushions and pillows had been draped with reams of chocolate brown satin for me to sit on. Paco adjusted the fall of fabric over me, fiddled with the lighting then spent ten minutes on rapid-fire camera shots.

'You really think this will convince them to go with your concept?' I called from the bathroom.

'I guarantee it. They'll take one look at this photo of you and they'll forget all about the dungeon theme.'

I was dubious. 'You remember what I told you, right? My grandma has sold them on her S & M idea. She's gone shopping for it. They've got whips and … things.'

'Steph, I'm used to dealing with supermodels. If I can get the likes of Naomi Campbell to cooperate with me, I think I can handle your grandma and the girls.'

Paco had talked me out of my clothes easily enough, even if it was for artistic reasons, so he certainly had a knack for persuasion, in a puppyish way. Still, talking Grandma out of leather was a whole other ballgame.

'Trust me. They'll be mostly naked; but they'll be completely beautiful,' he called.

'Are you going to smear Vaseline over a soft focus lens, like they do with Elizabeth Taylor?' I teased.

'Now you're hurting my feelings. I don't need to cheat. There's something beautiful in every one; I just have to capture it.'

Back in my clothes, I padded out to where Paco was hunched over his laptop and printer.

'And what do you mean by mostly naked? You said I wouldn't be showing anything in the photo.'

He looked up with a smug smile. 'You're not. Look.' He held out the photo he'd just printed.

I shook my head. 'That's not me.'

'Yes, it is.'

Holy cow! I was seated with my back half-turned to the camera, legs stretched to the right of the shot and bent at the knees. My weight was on my left hand while the other curled over my right shoulder, holding the fabric and incidentally covering my breast with my elbow. A drip of chocolate satin flowed over my right hip, just covering my butt cheek and leaving my legs and my whole back exposed except for my hair falling in tousled waves.

Paco must have done some magic with the photo touch up software because my skin was luminous, creamy white against the chocolate satin. My eyes smiling at him over my shoulder were very blue, as if he'd dripped paint onto the paper.

My jaw dropped. 'How the heck did you do that? I look like a 40s Hollywood star.'

Paco smiled. 'That's why I get paid the big bucks. And you're very photogenic; the camera loves you. Now do you believe I can convince your Grandma?'

I nodded. 'I'm a believer.'

Paco slipped the photo into a protective folder and packed it with the gear he needed for the meeting. He was bringing a variety of fabrics to test against their skin tones so he could plan the twelve individual poses.

While he packed, I nosed through some photos scattered across the coffee table. Most of them were of a classy sports watch. 'Is this an advertising campaign you're involved with?'

'Yeah, it's the new Breitling model. State of the art.'

Paco rhapsodized like a kid with a new train set. 'Titanium and gold, brushed with black PVD coating. Analogue 12 and 24 hour dial, time zone ring, valjoux automatic movements, high torque movement stopwatch, chronograph with gas valve. It's waterproof, dust proof, impact proof and pressure proof from zero to ten atmospheres. It even works in zero gravity.'

'Does it make coffee in the morning?' I kidded.

He smiled, embarrassed. 'I'm a little taken with it. But look at this; secure illumination. You have to touch these two buttons in sequence for it to light up so you don't do it by accident in the dark.'

He came over to point out the tiny buttons in one of the photos to make sure I appreciated the awesomeness of the feature. 'Beautiful, sleek design. So elegant you could wear it to a white tie dinner with the President.' His voice was awed.

'Paco, it's a watch.'

He shrugged and stacked the photos neatly. 'A $12,000 watch.'

My mouth dropped open and he smiled. 'Limited edition, guaranteed not to fail. Perfect for all those millionaire Arctic explorers and astronauts.'

Paco picked up the two bags he was taking. 'Let's go. We're a little early but we can stop for coffee and cake somewhere.'

If it wasn't for the perpetual queasiness I was experiencing lately, I would really appreciate Paco's attitude to food. The elevator took us down three floors and the doors dinged open. Paco ushered me into the foyer towards the front entrance.

'Señor Lopez!'

The kid behind the concierge desk looked about eighteen and he carried the uniform with a cocky self-assurance. He knew he made it look good. Paco turned towards him with a smile.

'Hola, Feli, qué tal?' _[Hey, Feli, how are you?]_

Feli answered him in melodic Spanish and held out a thick envelope with _Do not bend_ stamped on it. Paco took it to check the sender's name and handed it back with a satisfied look and some more words in Spanish. I guessed he'd asked for the envelope to be held at the concierge's desk.

Feli shifted his gaze to look me up and down with that combination of lust and wide-eyed innocence only a hormonal teenage boy can achieve. He grinned at Paco and asked him a question, bantering, and I caught the word _Amante. _Paco replied with a look of mock outrage and Feli shrugged, turning a shameless grin on me. Paco gave an exasperated shake of his head and walked away.

'What was he talking about when he was smiling at me?' I asked as we headed to the main doors.

'He asked if you're my lover.' Paco glanced at me, his eyes impish.

'But I heard him say _Amante._ Isn't that a name?'

'No. Amante means lover.'

I stopped in my tracks. 'Amante... means... lover,' I repeated slowly.

'Yeah. Are you okay?' Paco's eyebrows lifted with curiosity.

I stared at him while I internally replayed the end of last night's conversation with Ranger. He had rejected the last of the nicknames I'd thought up for him and asked me to call him _amante. _Lover. My mouth hung open.

Paco put his arm around my shoulders. 'Steph? You sure you're okay?'

I nodded and floated across the road in a daze. The doors of the Mercedes unlocked automatically as we approached. Paco dropped his arm from my shoulders and whistled as the lights blinked to signal alarm off.

'Wow! You really upgraded the Mustang!'

'Not really. The Mustang died and Ranger gave me a car,' I said, still distracted by my discovery. I slipped into the seat and pressed the button to fold back the roof.

Paco skewered me with a calculating look. 'Ranger gave you this car? What about your fiancé?'

'Joe is away on a job and he took his car with him.' I started up and headed toward the 'burg. Paco didn't say anything but I felt the weight of his stare. I withstood the pressure for five more seconds.

'Look, it's a loaner, okay? Ranger is my best friend. It doesn't mean anything.'

I stopped for a red light and glared out the windshield while I waited for the lights to change, determined not to look at Paco.

'Stephanie.'

'Don't you dare tell me it's inappropriate!' I snapped, swinging my head around to glare at him.

'I was just going to ask if you were waiting for a different shade of green.' He pointed at the traffic light with his chin.

'Oh.' I burned rubber through the intersection.

I caught a red again at the next set of lights and slammed on the brakes. A pedestrian ambled across in front of us, weaving a little. He turned his head towards me and grinned drunkenly. I saw a gappy set of crooked teeth I recognized and I grabbed one of the skip files on the floor behind my seat to check the photo. Bingo!

'It's Boom Boom Barney. I knew he looked familiar.'

'Boom Boom?'

'Yeah, fried beans is his favorite food.'

Barney reached the sidewalk and headed away from us. The lights changed and I swerved round the corner, pulled into the first space I saw, threw open the door and gave chase. I heard Paco yell and the sound of feet behind me but I focused on the weaving figure ahead. Barney looked over his shoulder, saw me and burned gas. He made good speed for a guy with a full tank. He ducked into an alley to his right.

'You're in violation of your bond agreement,' I panted as I ran. 'I'm authorized to take you in...' pant, pant, '...to reschedule your court date. You need to stop right now and come with me.'

Barney took no notice. The high heels of my sandals clattered on the uneven surface of the alley. I made a desperate surge and threw myself at him. We went down in a tangle, Barney squirming like an eel. He broke my grip and scrambled away but my dress had caught in his belt buckle and I heard the fabric rip.

'I've got him!' Paco flashed past to tackle him at a run and they both went down. Paco got on top and Barney gave it up. I got my breath back and led him toward the car with a grip on his elbow. Paco followed a step behind.

'Lacy white underwear. Very nice.' I whipped my head around and Paco waggled his eyebrows at me, grinning and dimpled. I held the dress together behind me with one hand and Paco moved forward to help with Barney.

Barney boom boomed out of spite all the way to the station but it had no impact in the open air vehicle and Ranger's state of the art sound system drowned out Barney's gastrointestinal aria. Paco waited in the car while I took my skip inside for processing.

'I need to go home to change clothes,' I announced when I came out with my body receipt. 'The guys were taking bets on the color of my underwear.'

Paco waggled his eyebrows at me again. 'I could tell them, remove the suspense.'

I glared at him through slitty eyes.

oOo

Paco looked around my living room. 'Minimalist.'

I glanced around, seeing my apartment as Paco saw it. I hadn't started with much furniture after the last fire and Morelli and I had been gradually moving things to his house. All the surfaces were bare now, half-filled moving boxes stacked in corners.

'I'm moving into Joe's this week. Most of my stuff is already there and the rest will be picked up by goodwill on Tuesday.' Four days. In just four days. The room swirled around me and I had to sit down. I leaned forward with my head between my knees until the black spots in my vision dissipated.

'Are you sick?' Paco sat next to me on the couch, rubbing my back.

'No. Just light-headed.' A waft of something nasty assailed my nose, ratcheting up my nausea. 'I can still smell Boom Boom.'

Paco's nose was wrinkled up. 'So can I. Man, that's bad.'

'Paco, I think it's coming from you. Turn around.' He shifted and I saw the stain on the back of his shirt.

'I think you rolled in some doggy-do back in the alley.'

Paco stripped off his shirt and I went into my bedroom to see if I had anything he could wear.

Most of my stuff was packed and all of Joe's clothes were back at his house. There was a bag in my closet containing the four black t-shirts I'd purloined from Ranger but I wasn't going to give Paco one of those. I still had to figure out what I was going to do with them when I moved. I pulled out my Ranger's jersey; it was over-sized and the largest garment I had.

'Catch!' I tossed it to Paco through the door. He had found a plastic bag in one of my kitchen drawers to stuff his shirt into and tied off the top to seal it. I fished out a fresh towel from one of the boxes and Paco showered while I changed my torn dress for a fresh one.

I went into the kitchen to check on Rex. He was sulking. He'd been sulking since I'd started packing things into boxes, hiding in his soup can and turning his back on me every chance he got.

Mrs. Bestler was playing elevator operator again when we left. She glanced at Paco's hair, still wet and tousled from the shower and smiled so wide her dentures nearly fell out.

'Friendly building,' Paco noted.

I sighed. 'Yeah. They're all a little eccentric but I'm going to miss them.'

'Hey.' Paco slung his arm over my shoulder and squeezed my arm as I led the way out to the back lot. 'You're making a new home with your cop. It's what you want, right?'

'Right.' Wrong. What the hell was I doing? I'd take a page out of Scarlett O Hara's book and think about it tomorrow.

oOo

'You have never turned down a slice of pineapple upside down cake in your whole, entire life. What's going on, Steph?'

My Grandma Mazur sat across the table, scrutinizing the slice of cake on my plate. I'd nibbled a tiny bite and was pushing the rest around the plate.

As I predicted, Grandma's crew had howled with outrage at the suggestion they drop the idea of leather, whips and dog chains. Paco let them get their protests out then he flashed my picture around.

'The concept is Hollywood, the golden years. You know, Greta Garbo, Jean Harlow, Bette Davis. Glamor, elegance, sophistication...allure.'

'I could go with allure,' Grandma dropped her frown and perked up. 'That's what I want. Allure is my thing. I'll get some red hair extensions and I could go with a Rita Hayworth look. She was the It Girl, you know.'

They were like dominoes. Within fifteen minutes, Paco had them convinced they were all going to look like 40s movie stars and each of them was sure it had been her own idea.

Grandma insisted on being the first to pose for her test shot, brushing out her sausage curls to fling her hair back like Rita Hayworth in _Gilda._ Then she got under Paco's feet trying to direct everyone else's test shots. She moved the lights he'd set up, draped a flokati rug over Phyllis Abramowics, pulled the drapes open, closed them up again and suggested Doris Brubaker should sit with her back to the camera.

Paco made desperate eyebrow twitches in my direction until I asked Grandma whether there were any leftovers in the fridge. Her cronies stayed in my parents' living room, fascinated by the test shoot, while she hustled me into the kitchen for a slice of pineapple upside down cake. She watched me push it around my plate.

'Are you off sugar again, like when you made that deal with your mother? You know that can futz around with your hormones? Always makes me horny.'

'No, I'm not off sugar.' Not deliberately, anyway. 'I'm moving and I'm organizing a wedding. I'm a little stressed and it's affecting my appetite.'

Grandma swallowed her mouthful of cake and shook her head. 'Nope, you've got Hungarian genes. Stress makes you eat.'

I didn't respond. The leftover taste of cake in my mouth was ratcheting up my nausea.

'I thought you didn't like living at Joseph's house. Whenever you stay there for more than a week you go stir crazy.'

'It'll be different when we're married.' I leaned back in the chair and shut my eyes against the black spots the vertigo brought on.

'I didn't get stir crazy until after I was married. Your grandfather was a good man – may he rest in peace – but he was kind of a stick in the mud, you know what I mean? He got upset if his schedule was disturbed. Pot roast on the table at six; cards on Tuesday; the game on Thursday; nookie on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, sometimes on Saturday morning if I was lucky. The nookie kinda made up for the duller moments; your grandfather was pretty good in the sack.'

I gagged. Dear God, don't let her start on nookie techniques. 'Do you want to go see if Paco's done yet?'

She shrugged. 'Okay. But Steph, honey, you want to know going in to a marriage that you don't have to rearrange your insides to make it work. You've got to be able to live your life your way or it's not your life. A lot of people think I'm a crazy old bat but I'm just making up for lost time.'

Grandma got up and put her dish in the sink. 'Okay, let's go see what's happening out there.'

My stomach churned. 'You go ahead; I'll be out in a minute.'

Grandma kissed the top of my head and patted my shoulder before swinging out the door. I heard her voice float back over the hubbub. 'Okay, people, let's get this show on the road.'

I lay my head on my folded arms on the table and closed my eyes. Was good nookie going to make up for not living my life my way? In forty years time, maybe I'd be running around in cone bras and feather boas, picking up toothless old geezers at open casket viewings, trying to make up for lost time.

I sighed. Morelli was trying so hard to adjust his behavior and expectations. I had to give him credit for trying, but deep down he saw himself as a daddy. It's what he wanted. The Plum/Morelli version of 'burg family life. I was trying hard to meet him halfway but I just couldn't see it. Not yet. Maybe I would in time.

And Ranger wanted me to call him _lover._ What the hell did that mean? I knew what _boyfriend_ meant: dating, sleepovers, shared weekends, pizza and ballgames, lots of laughs. _Husband_ was a dirty word associated with Dickie Orr but it was gradually turning around. It was starting to mean mortgages and commitment, creating a life and growing old together. Morelli wanted that, too, and I could see myself coming to terms with it. Nothing wrong with any of those things.

_Lover_ meant … sex. Passion, but no ties.

Ranger had talked about emotional intimacy but he'd said nothing about emotional _commitment._ And he wanted me in his bed. He wanted to be my _lover, _not my boyfriend, not my husband. He was just throwing me a bone with all that opening up emotionally stuff. Bottom line, nothing had changed. Ranger wanted friendship and sex. I was such a dope, getting carried away because he'd told me he called his dad _Papa._

'Hey, you okay Steph?'

I looked up and saw Paco with his head through the swing door. 'Sure. Are you done?'

'Yep. Took longer than I expected. Your mom is home, by the way, and she's happy with my new idea.'

There was a deer-in-the-headlights look about Paco's eyes which made me suspect the conversation with my mom had contained some veiled threats about the consequences of producing the wrong kind of calendar. It made me smile and Paco picked up that I was laughing at him.

'You have a very scary maternal line, you know that?'

'I've been told.' I pushed up from the table and followed him out to the living room.

It was bedlam. Grandma had brought out some of her feather boas from when she'd sung with _The What_ to use as props and multicolored feathers floated around the room amongst the luxury fabrics Paco had brought. The calendar crew was in a post photo-shoot high and were arguing about who was going to get which month, and who looked best with satin and who was going to get the black lace.

Paco ducked around packing his gear as quickly as he could. He excused himself from dinner because Andy was waiting up to eat with him back at the hotel. I excused myself because I had to drive him home. Mom accepted my excuse with a long-suffering sigh and weighed me down with leftovers. She and Grandma saw us to the door and Grandma handed me a brown paper bag.

'What's in it? More leftovers?'

'No, it's the outfit I had picked out for my calendar photo before we changed to my better idea. I was hoping you'd return it for me – it has to be back by Monday. They have a thirty day refund policy.'

'Where do I take it?'

Grandma looked shifty and lowered her voice so my mother couldn't hear. 'The receipt is in the bag. I'm only returning the outfit; I kept the accessories.' I thought it best not to ask.

I drove Paco back to the hotel and idled outside while he ducked up to get Bob. The hotel didn't allow dogs but Paco's charm and persuasive skills had bent the rules. Bob jumped into the passenger seat and scooted over to sit on my lap and lick me hello. He'd missed me.

Paco handed me the protective envelope with the photo. 'This is yours. I'll wipe it off my hard drive and the camera memory card so you've got the only copy, as promised.'

'Thanks.' When I agreed to the photo I had intended to tear it up after Paco had convinced Grandma and the crew. Now I wasn't sure what I was going to do with it. It was a good photo – light years better than the ones printed in the Trenton papers over the last few years.

Paco waved me off and I drove home. I closed up the car and I took Bob for a walk around the block before going upstairs. He needed to tinkle and I felt guilty that I'd hardly seen him in the last twenty-four hours. We took the elevator – Mrs. Bestler was on her rest break so I had to push the button for the second floor myself, juggling all my leftovers bags.

Bob pushed past me as soon as I unlocked the door and made a beeline for his food bowl in the kitchen. I followed him in and dumped all the bags and the photo on the counter. I fed and watered Bob and Rex and got a bottle of water to take out onto the fire escape.

It was time. Time to come out of the land of denial. Grandma was a living example of what the future looked like if I didn't. Mind you, I love Grandma. I could do worse than adopt her attitude to life.

I kicked off my heels in the living room, stepped through the door to the bedroom to get to the fire escape through the window and froze. My heart suddenly pounded so hard with the adrenaline spike it drummed in my ears. My bedroom was trashed.

The closet doors hung open and everything it had contained was tossed all over the room. The boxes with my clothes were torn and emptied. Underwear, summer dresses, skirts, tops, shoes had been slashed and torn. The sheets were ripped from the bed, the mattress viciously slashed, the kitchen scissors still buried to the hilt in the springs.

Across the ripped surface, in big, ragged red letters, was written WHORE. I recognized it as lipstick. My lipstick, ransacked from the bathroom. They were dumped on the carpet next to the bed and crushed underfoot with rose petals. It all ratcheted up a notch when I saw the rose. A third visit from my rose stalker, but not neat and controlled this time. No mistaking it for a gift. The rose was on the floor next to the bed, the stem violently snapped, the bud crushed to a pulp.

I backed out of the room, noticing what I should have noticed before, that the tops of the boxes in the living room were torn open and pushed around. The bat signal rang on my cell and the sound galvanized me. I snapped open the phone but I couldn't activate my voice. I was hyperventilating.

'Babe?'

I sucked in a breath.

'Babe!'

'Ranger.' The sound was thin and raspy.

'Babe, tell me what's going on.' Ranger commanded and his assured tone calmed me down.

'A stalker broke into my apartment while I was out. He slashed things up.'

'I'm on my way. Is your apartment secure? Are you safe?'

A flutter of panic flew through my stomach. I backtracked my movements since arriving home – kitchen, living room, bedroom. No one there. Bob sat at my feet looking confused, his tail wagging half-halfheartedly to reassure me. If there was an intruder in my apartment Bob would be running him down to lick him to death. Just in case, I tiptoed to the bathroom with the phone glued to my ear and Bob at my heels to peek around the door. No sign of Norman Mailer behind the shower curtain.

'There's no one here. It's secure.'

'I'll be there in seven minutes.'

Bob and I stayed in the kitchen so the dog wouldn't mess with the forensics. I called Trenton PD but found Ranger had already called it in. I patted Bob and reassured Rex that we'd be okay. Ranger was on his way.

He beat the cops and his own ETA by a full minute. By the time I heard him knock at the door the adrenaline spike of fear was abating and I was starting to shake.

'You knocked.' I stepped back and Ranger followed me into the kitchen.

'Your stalker messed with your locks. Best not interfere with them until the forensic team sees them.'

Got it. I leaned back on the counter, my arms crossed over my waist, staring at the wall. Alongside the relief that Ranger had arrived, I was starting to feel really pissed. My home had been invaded again, my clothes ripped, my bed destroyed. The bed was going to goodwill, but still.

Ranger stood in front of me, looking me over. 'You okay, Babe?'

I nodded. 'Sure.'

He reached out to tip my chin towards him so he could see my eyes. His were full of concern, warm, reassuring. The hardness was there, visible enough that I knew Ranger was going to be onto the business as soon as he was sure I was okay.

I stepped forward and hugged him. I didn't mean to. I hadn't planned on it. If I'd given it any thought beforehand I would have kept my distance and grilled him on what the hell he meant by emotional intimacy and asking me to call him lover but those burning issues went out the window when I looked into his eyes. It wasn't even that I needed comfort. I just needed to hold him.

My arms wrapped around him, my palms flat against his back, holding him to me. I pressed my face into his neck, holding him as close as I could. For a heartbeat I felt his surprised hesitation, then Ranger's arms came around me, one arm holding me close, a hand cupping the back of my head and stroking down my hair.

'Babe,' he breathed and his breath tickled my ear.

Ranger's nose was in my hair and mine was buried in his neck, enjoying a long, deep inhalation of the fragrance from my dream, the unique mix of Bulgari and musky male scent that belonged only to Ranger.

I relaxed into the embrace, running my hands along his back. I wasn't going to let go until the cops came. Maybe not even then.

-----------

_Thank you all for your patience - I know this chapter was a long time coming. Things are a little calmer in my household now, so my head is clearer for writing._

_Now...get thee to the review submission window! Do it now!_


	19. Chapter 19

_With thanks to __**JannyB , Magdalync , Dee **__and __**Alfonsina**_, _at whose feet I abjectly grovel for their honest and insightful feedback, suggestions for keeping it real and tight, and for whipping me good when I get it wrong._

_I forgot the disclaimer last chapter, but here it is this time: I __Disclaim any rights to the use of characters created by Janet Evanovich._

_Thank you for all your comments and feedback. You've no idea what a relief it is to know I'm not talking to myself here. I have replied to each review individually unless you have PMs turned off – in which case please accept my grateful thanks here._

_Warning for language (Ranger's head) and for adult behaviour (sexual)._

_oOo  
_

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 19: Toeing the line**

When I was a kid in the barrio I ran with gang-bangers and 'hoods. I spent time in juvie and almost ten years in the military, in war zones, ongoing training, deep cover, black ops. I learned there is no such thing as normal. The unpredictable can and will happen, at any time, in any place, so anticipate the unexpected because the unexpected is all you're gonna get. Don't hesitate when a gun goes off, don't second guess if there's a knife in the hand coming at you. Act first, analyze second. Focus.

Surprise is a luxury that will get you dead.

Yet Stephanie constantly surprises me.

She is a force of nature, unpredictable, passionate, an emotional whirlwind that sweeps through every man and woman in her path. But with me she's guarded. Cautious. Inhibited. With me, she's scared to let go. Stephanie, who always holds back on me, astonished me by seizing the moment.

She moved forward to wrap her arms around me and I froze with surprise. I recovered in a heartbeat and pulled her close. Stephanie melted into my embrace and she felt so good in my arms I nearly gave in to the urge to explore all those curves I missed. I breathed her in, rubbing my face in her hair. The scent of her triggered an instant physical response but I toed the line; she was asking for comfort, that was all.

And then I realized I was wrong. She pressed me closer, her hands caressing my back, and shaped her body around me. She nuzzled my neck, warm, soft lips trailing along my skin to press a kiss to my jaw below my ear. My breath caught. Stephanie wasn't asking me for comfort.

The timing couldn't be worse. Her place was trashed, I had to shut down the new stalker on her tail, Morelli needed to be eliminated from the picture, and the cops were on their way. Even if there was time to take what she offered me, I couldn't trust the consequences. If we fucked and she went back to the cop again it would kill me – or I'd kill him. But her body was pressed against mine and my dick throbbed against her belly. No contest.

I threaded my fingers through the thick of her curls to turn her mouth up to mine and kissed her. My hands molded over the gentle hills and valleys of her body, cupping and kneading the soft perfection of her ass through the light cotton of the dress. I worked the skirt higher until I felt the warmth of her skin like silk on my fingers. Stephanie urged me on. Her fingers gripped my shoulders and she came up on bare toes to press closer, suckling my lips, arching into me.

It was a kiss, just a kiss, but I was breathless, living for it. _¡Madre de Dios! _Impossible to maintain control. Stephanie's throaty purr of desire shuddered through us both as I heard the cops get out of the elevator on her floor. I dragged my mouth from hers to back away. Stephanie wouldn't allow it, protesting with a low sound of disapproval and clasped me tighter.

"Babe, the cops are here," I breathed into her ear. She clung to me a moment longer before her arms dropped loosely around my hips. Breath ragged and our bodies touching from forehead to knee, we heard them hovering in the doorway.

"Hey, Steph?" Gazarra's voice was hesitant. He knocked softly a couple times.

I swept her hair back and cupped her face to read it. She looked dazed, her eyes deep blue and aroused. "Babe?" I whispered. She nodded and took in a slow, shaky breath. I released her, adjusted myself and sucked in air before stepping out of the kitchen to give Stephanie time to collect herself.

Gazarra stood in the doorway, his brow wrinkled with concern. I have a healthy respect for him. He and Stephanie go back a long way and they're vaguely related by marriage. He's helped her out of previous disasters and he stands by her like a big brother. Chianni was at his shoulder, looking curious. I nodded a greeting to them both and they stepped into the small foyer.

'Hey, Eddie.' Stephanie followed me out. Her voice was still breathless but that could have been mistaken for distress.

Gazarra's face relaxed when he saw she was unharmed. "You okay, Steph? What happened?"

Stephanie gave him half a smile and shrugged. "Same old, same old. Hi Gus. I didn't know Eddie had partnered up with you."

Chianni grinned. "As soon as the incident report came in, I put up my hand faster than a fat kid at a cake buffet."

I don't like Chianni and not just because he's one of Morelli's regular drinking buddies. The way he treats Stephanie like a carnival sideshow pisses me off. I want to break his nose and I will when the right opportunity arises. Not tonight. I kept my temper under wraps – maybe not tightly enough because he retreated behind Gazarra, watching me warily.

Stephanie ignored his idiocy and gestured them in. "I guess you guys want the grand tour."

"We don't move anything before the forensic guys get here," Eddie cautioned. He flicked through his notebook to a fresh page to take notes as he walked.

She led them through her living room to the scene of devastation in the bedroom, answering questions and trying to make light of it. I stayed with her, evaluating the narrative, eyeballing the damage and mentally sifting through the evidence automatically. Tank arrived with Hank, the two forensic cops behind them with their boxes of tools.

I signaled my men to take up stations. Hank took charge of the dog in the kitchen. They'd developed some kind of bond when Hank watched him at Buddy's. Tank shadowed the geek squad, keeping his eyes open while they dusted for fingerprints and checked for other forensic evidence.

I stayed close to Stephanie so she knew I had her back. She stood in the bedroom doorway with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, chewing her lips as photos were taken of the slashed clothes and bedding.

Gazarra pointed at the trampled rose on the floor next to her bed, clarifying parts of her statement. "So, this is the third time the perpetrator left a rose?"

Stephanie nodded.

"And the first one turned up three weeks ago, on your pillow, with no sign of a break-in?"

She nodded again.

"You have no idea who it could be? No FTAs with grudges or vengeful family members?"

Stephanie shook her head. "None. Work has been amazingly free of crazies the last few months."

Gazarra frowned. "Why didn't you report it the first time you got a rose? Did you tell Joe?"

Stephanie looked down at her bare toes with their shell pink nails. She shrugged and flushed faintly. "It was a beautiful, red, hothouse rose. I didn't take it as a threat. I thought it was a gift."

Her eyes flitted to me, not making it to my face, and it dawned on me that Stephanie had believed the rose was from me. I'd given her a similar rose for Valentine's Day. When she realized her mistake she would have been embarrassed to report it or to tell Morelli. Fuck.

The knowledge was a direct hit to my heart. It twisted my gut that she had felt unable to ask me and I felt so bad that our fucked up relationship had again endangered her life. I was an asshole to let it come to this. Her blush deepened as she felt the weight of my eyes on her.

Gazarra was incredulous. "You often receive anonymous gifts that arrive through locked doors like smoke?" He threw a speculative glance in my direction. I shut down, returning his look silently. He looked away shaking his head and muttered, "Sometimes I forget how complicated your life is."

Gazarra and Chianni took almost two hours to get her full statement, going over it repeatedly to clarify details and by that time the forensic duo had everything they were going to get. Stephanie hugged Eddie goodbye and the cops trooped out, pulling the door closed behind them.

I steered her to the couch with a hand in the small of her back and sat on one of the boxes in front of her. Hank was still in the kitchen, talking baby talk to the dog and trying to teach him to roll over. Unbelievable. Tank stood alert against the wall, arms folded over his chest. It's SOP* to have two pairs of eyes and ears whenever possible to ensure nothing is missed.

Stephanie slumped back onto the couch. I studied her face, beautiful and weary. She looked lost, vulnerable, her jaw tight with stress. She had been running on adrenaline, putting on a brave face, and it cost her. Her fear had been tangible on the phone and, while our kiss in the kitchen had transformed the moment, revisiting the incident with the cops had re-ignited the stress response.

I wanted a full run down on the days surrounding the three incidents – where Stephanie had gone, what she did, who she saw and when – but first I needed to get her out of her wrecked apartment.

"How are you holding up, Babe?"

She shrugged, straightening her back and lifting her chin. "Piece of cake. No one shot me. I know it's just stuff but this really pisses me off. I want his ass."

Stephanie is extraordinary. Knock her down, she gets right back up. Someone had broken into her home with professional ease, destroyed her personal possessions and graphically threatened her with violence but she refused to crumple into a heap. She remained defiant, her dignity intact. Her courage awed me.

I took her hand to kiss her fingers and held onto it. She squeezed back, a light pressure in mine. The smile twitching at my mouth escaped over my face. "That's my girl. Proud of you, Babe."

Her blue eyes blazed into mine and swam with sudden moisture. She blinked a few times to clear them. She is so unused to praise it makes her cry. It kills me to see it. Her whole life the fucking 'burg has run her down.

"I need to ask you some questions before we leave," I diverted, giving her time to get a handle on her emotions.

She shrugged. "Sure but you heard it all when I told it to Eddie."

"Humor me. There are questions Gazarra didn't ask; I have some suspicions."

Stephanie thought about that for a beat then she sat forward, her eyes suddenly wide and alert. "You mean you know who did this? Because if you do, I want in on it. That son of a bitch shredded my silk lingerie. You know how much that stuff costs? I want to find him and feed him his own shorts."

It took a lot of control not to laugh; Tank didn't manage it and coughed to cover. Stephanie shot him a glance through narrowed eyes and Tank's budding smile vanished. I stood and pulled her up with me to lead her back to the bedroom.

"Hate to break it to you, Babe, but I don't think it's a he." I stopped at the door and shifted her in front of me with my hands on her hips. "Look."

Stephanie obediently looked around the room, wincing when her gaze hit the slashed mattress, the filling bleeding out through the gashes with ugly red smears from the lipstick.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to reassure her. "It's okay, Babe." She crossed her arms over mine and held them tightly against her. I breathed in the scent of her hair, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

It was hard for her to see her private sanctuary violated but there was something I had to check with her before it was cleaned up. "Think about which clothes were damaged."

She looked around more carefully. "Dresses, skirts, shirts – some of them are distraction outfits but mostly it's my good stuff. The most flattering stuff. And my best underwear. My sweats and work clothes aren't damaged."

"Right. The perp was selective. Chose the clothes that make a woman feel sexy. And it was done with scissors. A man would use his hands or a knife. Rip or slash. He wouldn't snip through the fabric. And a man wouldn't go through your make up for lipsticks to graffiti your mattress."

Stephanie turned in my arms and gripped my shirt. She looked up at me and I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. I suppressed a smile of relief. She was a hunter on the scent now, energized, the vulnerable expression gone. "We're looking for a woman," she confirmed.

I tucked a curl of hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek. Any opportunity to touch her. Her eyes darkened as I knew they would. "I think so. A jealous woman."

A line appeared between her brows and she licked her lips, thinking hard. I stared at her mouth, the tip of her tongue on the generous nub of her top lip.

"Ranger?"

She'd asked something but I'd missed the question, too busy fantasizing about what I wanted those full lips to do to me. I dragged my eyes up to hers.

"Do you think it's someone I know?" she asked again.

"More likely on the fringes of your acquaintance. We'll find them."

"Them? You think there's more than one?"

"A woman did the damage, but a man brought the roses. We're looking at two different MOs, two people. Probably connected, it's too much of a coincidence otherwise." I pulled her back out into the living room, an arm still around her waist. "Come on, Babe, let's get you out of here."

"Aren't you going to grill me while everything's still fresh in my mind?"

I wanted to smile at her impatience but it would annoy her. "Tomorrow. Your car's GPS print-outs and Hank's surveillance notes will help flesh out your recollections."

Stephanie's eyes narrowed with indignation. I knew it would piss her off that we've been keeping records on her but I wasn't going to hide it from her. Surveillance reports are SOP precisely for eventualities like this. Her lips pressed tight as she worked up a head of steam. I didn't want to argue with her; I needed a distraction. Kissing her always works but that wasn't going to happen with my men watching.

"Where do you want to stay tonight, Babe?" I asked, before she could open her mouth.

She blinked. Goal accomplished. She looked around and I felt her droop as if a weight had dropped on her. "I guess I can't stay here."

"You know you can stay at Rangeman."

My hands were on her hips holding her close, now apparently too close for Stephanie. She pushed her hands against my chest and took a couple of steps back.

"Thanks but not a good idea." She sighed. "I can't go to my parents' either. I don't know who the crazies are and I don't want to explain it all to my mother."

"Morelli's?" The suggestion felt like I was cutting off my balls but she was planning to move in there on Tuesday anyway. I was curious to see whether she'd go for it.

Stephanie shook her head, frowning, and I realized I'd been holding my breath waiting for her response. "No, I don't want to move in any earlier than planned. Besides, I wouldn't feel safe there on my own."

It felt like victory. I reminded myself it was a long way to the finish line but the jolt through my gut was triumphant.

"Wherever you go, you won't be alone, Babe. I'll have a team on you 24/7. And Lula has no influence with me."

Tank snorted. He'd called off the team because I'd relieved him of duty and it had nothing to do with Lula's attempt to exert pressure. The phone conversation with Stephanie the night before had changed my plans. She had to know how I felt and what I wanted after that exchange; there was no point in maintaining a physical separation that was killing me.

I expected her to buck against my security decision. Apart from her authority issues, Stephanie hates the idea that the men are babysitting her and she's ingenious in finding ways to leave them in the dust. Tank has been known to put new guys on her as a training test.

"I don't want bodyguards." Her hands were on her hips, chin out like a prize fighter. "It was a waste of your resources when Tank did it and it's a waste of your resources now. If Hank had been shadowing me, he would have been parked outside my parents' house when this happened. You're over-reacting."

There was no point in responding, my mind was set. I crossed my arms and held myself expressionless but Stephanie read something in my face and her eyes got shifty. I could practically hear the gears work – she was going to try something. I would have been disappointed if she hadn't.

She arched her back slightly and sucked in some deep breaths so her chest undulated. She was using distraction techniques to soften me up. Smart woman. "How about we negotiate terms?"

I always consider Stephanie's point of view but I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate the added visual as an incentive. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'll use the personal, clip-on GPS. It'll be enough during the day. They've been careful not to be seen or make direct contact so they're not going to jump me in public."

I shook my head slightly, still enjoying the view. "I disagree. Tonight's incident demonstrates lack of control. The woman snapped and her actions are unpredictable. There will be a team on you during the day."

"Ranger!" It came out as an exasperated protest. She almost did a little foot stamping. All this because she was worried about the expense I was incurring. I looked back at her face and saw the fatigue and worry behind the spitfire. I needed to end this and get her home to seven.

"Babe, if you stay somewhere secure you won't need cover at night." She knew I was referring to Rangeman again. She dropped her eyes and stilled, thinking it over. I watched the emotions play across her face, battling between wariness about sharing close space with me, the desire to say yes, guilt when she thought of Morelli. She wanted to come, it was written all over her face.

"You can stay in an apartment on four," I offered. It was a compromise that she could grab onto as an excuse, if she needed one. Disappointment flashed in her eyes and hope flared in me. She wanted seven.

"No can do, Boss." Tank's voice rumbled from the foyer, where he'd retreated to take a call. "Cal had to bring Dubois' wife and kid into the building for safe-keeping. They've just moved them into the last free apartment. Someone needs to go supervise clean-up at the extraction scene."

Someone meant me or Tank. I fished my keys out of my pocket and tossed them to him. "Go. I'll ride back to base with Stephanie. Keep me posted." Tank winked goodbye to Stephanie and left.

I turned and flashed her a victory smile. "Looks like you're on seven." The expression on her face was equal parts relief, exultation and fear.

"What about Bob? You don't allow dogs in the building."

She has no idea of her power. She's clueless that there are no rules I won't bend for her. Hank averted the dilemma. He came out of the kitchen with the dog bouncing around him like a rubber ball. "I can take him. Jodie won't mind – Bob can be company for our dog until this is sorted out."

Stephanie gave Hank a smile that stopped my heart. "Thanks, Hank. It will probably be just for tonight, or 'til Sunday at the latest."

The dog trotted over to Stephanie and jumped up to lick her face while Hank gathered up all the dog stuff from the kitchen. He was in a hurry, wanting to get home to his woman. Stephanie saw them out and stayed leaning against the door with her back to me.

I can't figure her out. She started out the evening by wrapping herself around me; now she won't look at me. If I'm not in the palm of her hand it's because she's keeping me at arm's length at the end of a string. Nearest I can tell she's afraid of something. I feel like a fucking yo-yo.

She turned around, wilting, holding on to the wall for support. She looked pale, like she was going to be sick.

"You okay, Babe?" I moved toward her but she waved me back.

"Just a little dizzy. Probably the heat and I haven't eaten properly. It's gone, I'm okay now." Her smile was forced and she shook her head as if to clear it.

"Sit down for a minute and I'll get you some water." I put my arm around her shoulder to lead her back to the couch. She pulled away, refusing to sit.

"Ranger, I'm okay, really." I let it slide. She'd recover in the airconditioning of the car.

"Do you need to take anything with you?" She has enough clothes and toiletries in my apartment to keep her going but she's a woman. Bound to be something she needs that hadn't occurred to me.

She frowned. "I don't want to leave this mess here; it'll feel worse coming back to it."

"Don't worry about it. I'll send a clean-up crew in tomorrow."

"Really?" Surprise and relief in her voice. "Okay. I might just do a quick check. I don't want them to throw out anything I can salvage. I'll be out in a second."

I went into the kitchen to get the rodent while Stephanie headed to her bedroom. Rex is an indispensable part of her emotional life. It amazes me how much love she pours into that tiny, unresponsive animal. He backed out of his soup can as I watched and did some reconnaisance around the perimeter of his glass hutch. A couple of bags were still sitting on the counter where she'd dumped them when she came in. Probably her favorite desserts from her mother.

I picked them up to take them with us and saw a large white document envelope under them. Unsealed, no address, no note. If the envelope was on the counter before the bags, there was an outside chance it was from the stalker.

Mindful not to interfere with any fingerprints, I flipped it open with the tip of a nail and shook out the single sheet. My breath stopped. I ran out of air and sucked some in, heart thudding. My pulse ran hot, pumping all my blood directly to my cock. Holy fuck! It was the most sensual photo of Stephanie imaginable. There was nothing risqué about it but my physical response was possessive and completely carnal.

Naked except for chocolate satin that dripped over her body, waves of hair tumbled over the flawless, creamy skin of her back. Long, shapely legs, tantalizing hourglass curves of her torso and hips. Her eyes were huge and captivating, that same vivid violet I saw when she was aroused. She was looking directly at me. Beautiful, unashamed, magnificent. _Dios,_ I wanted her!

Lopez had taken this photo. He'd seen her like this, captured her like this. Her eyes were smiling at him on the other side of the camera. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands, or rip his eyes out of their sockets – after thanking him for taking the photo.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. There wasn't much to salvage." Stephanie leaned against the kitchen doorway and casually tossed a plastic bag of stuff on top of her pocketbook.

I looked up at her from the photo. She met my eyes and started, lips parted, eyes wide. I must have looked like I was ready to eat her – which was true. Eat her, lick her, taste every inch of her. Her eyes dropped from mine to the photo in my hand and she flushed.

"Oh." It was a soft, unconscious sound carried on a husky breath that stopped my heart.

I couldn't talk. I've always said I can think with both heads independently but it wasn't happening. Concentrating, I breathed, "Pretty."

My voice was hoarse and low and she knew exactly how much I wanted her just by the tone of that one word. I let my eyes roam over her. Only the thin cotton between me and what I needed. I had to have her. She gripped the hem of the dress nervously as my eyes peeled it away.

"I can explain that. Paco needed to persuade Grandma to change the theme of her calendar and he thought if he showed her a photo of someone she knew the way he wanted to shoot it she'd be more likely to agree. He was right, it worked. Grandma loved the idea. They're going to change it to a Golden Years of Hollywood theme and they're all going to be femme fatales. Grandma wants to be – "

"Babe," I cut her off. Her nervous chatter wasn't going to distract me. The aching rutting urge, the feral craving to possess her, had overtaken the need to soothe her. The heat from my groin burned through my veins. I was going to explode if she touched me. She bit her lip and my cock jerked.

"What are you going to do with it?" I rasped.

She swallowed hard, the tip of her tongue flicking over her lips. "I was going to throw it out."

Over my cold, dead body. That photo was mine.

I smiled. It was a full smile, a feral smile … a big bad wolf smile and Stephanie shifted weight from foot to foot as she watched me, her eyes darkening to the deep violet in the photo. She wiped sweaty palms on the dress, rubbing them down her thighs. _Chingalo!__***_She had to know what she was doing to me.

I dropped the photo on top of the envelope, stepped out from behind the counter and crossed the space between us. Stephanie saw me coming and lifted her face to me. I was a man dying of thirst with no thought beyond quenching it.

I crushed her to me, burying my mouth and hands in her softness. I raised the skirt to find her skin, pushed down the thin straps to taste and nip and suckle. My knee nudged her thighs apart and we edged to the wall to use it as leverage. Stephanie's leg snaked up mine to hook over my hip and we began to grind, mouths locked, famished and greedy.

She pulled up my shirt and nails raked across my back while I reached down to push the insubstantial, lacy nothingness out of my way. With my mouth on her neck, her shoulders, the softness of her breasts, I combed my fingers through the tight curls. I smoothed the palm of my hand between her legs to touch the wet, swollen softness and my fingers explored between her folds from nub to her entrance, slick and pulsing.

I brought my head up to look at her. Stephanie leaned her head back against the wall, arching into me with her eyes closed, soft moans sighing from her parted lips with every breath. She felt me watching her and opened heavy lids. Her eyes begged. Raw desire, mine and hers.

Her hand in my hair tugged me down towards her mouth while the other reached for my belt buckle. Her whole body was shaking as she released me one-handed. She wrapped her hand as far around me as she could and a sunburst exploded behind my eyes. I hissed through my teeth and groaned into her neck. I heard her breath hitch with disappointment as I caught her wrist. I'd been walking around with a hard-on for her for hours and it had been too long since I'd had a woman; I couldn't take another touch. I wanted to blow buried deep inside her. Right now.

I used my thighs to spread her legs wider and bent my knees to position myself as I brought her hand up to my mouth to kiss her palm and felt the ring against my mouth. His fucking ring was on her finger.

"Fuck," I expelled on a breath and she heard it.

Ice-cold anger collided with the heat pumping through my veins. I pulled away to stare at her. My body shook with the fury surging through me and I dragged in air to clear the red haze from my vision.

I twisted her hand in mine so we could both see the diamond. "Why are you wearing this?" I kept the anger out of my tone; my voice was calm, flat and cold.

Stephanie had trouble focusing, confusion superimposed over the daze of arousal on her face. Her eyes moved from my face to her hand. She frowned, as if she was surprised to see it there and suddenly her face closed down in disbelief. "I'm...I'm engaged," she breathed.

"I know that. I want to know why you're wearing it now. It wasn't on your finger fifteen minutes ago."

Fifteen minutes ago she agreed to stay in my apartment. She wanted to; she'd been happy about it, unable to hide her relief. Then she walked into the bathroom and put his fucking ring on her finger, like a big neon sign to tell me she was taken, off-limits.

The stunned look on her face twisted into a wince of pain. "Ranger, let go." She was looking at my hand, holding hers.

I flicked my eyes across and saw my fingers digging into her flesh. I was crushing her wrist. Shocked that my control had slipped, I released it immediately and stepped away from her. I bent forward with hands on my knees, trying to calm my breathing. I had to think.

What the fuck was I doing? Thinking with my dick wasn't part of the plan. I wanted Stephanie to choose me freely, with a clear head, not out of lust. I won't service her like an alpha dog takes a bitch in heat then watch her walk back to Morelli. I won't settle for less than all of her.

Yet I was so desperate to fuck her I had treated her like a gangbanger's _chola__****_._ Mierde! La cage mal. No lo puedo mas.__*****_

I sucked in a slow breath and straightened, tucked in and zipped myself up. Stephanie was stretching out her wrist, avoiding my eyes.

"Babe, are you okay?" My chest ached. That fucking diamond was carving a path through my lungs.

She shrugged it off. "I'm fine. Just temporary loss of circulation." Her eyes were flitting around, still looking bewildered. Self-conscious, she straightened her dress, pulling the straps up and covering herself.

I stepped toward her, slowly so she would know I wasn't going to hurt her or resume my idiotic seduction. I took her hand to kiss her wrist. "I'm sorry, Babe."

She shook her head and bit her lip. Finally she met my eyes. "I went into the bathroom to gather my stuff and saw it next to the sink. I couldn't just leave it lying around. What if the stalker broke in again and it was stolen?"

"It's on your finger."

Stephanie's eyes flashed. "It's supposed to be. Look, I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Really? That was my cock you wrapped your hand around, Babe. We picked up where we left off before the cops came. I'm not complaining but you came onto me and you were engaged then, too. Want to explain that?"

Her eyes searched for an answer on the ceiling and she did a palms up, shaking her head. "I was … stressed and … feeling vulnerable and … and you … " she broke off and looked at me. I waited to see whether she could think of any more lame excuses. Maybe claim she was off sugar. She didn't even believe them herself.

Stephanie sighed and gave up any pretence. She shook her head. "I don't know, Ranger. My brain shuts down when you're close to me. I … need time … "

"...to think." I finished her sentence. "Yeah, you said that." I was pissed off, at myself, at her indecisiveness, at being kept hanging. Maybe it was the physical that was the draw for her; maybe she didn't love me the way I thought she did; maybe this was a game and I didn't know the rules. Fuck it.

"That's not what I was going to say!" Stephanie frowned, trying to figure it out. She closed her right hand over her left, fiddling with the ring and covering it. "These last few weeks we've gotten so close … " she shook her head again and looked directly at me.

"I made a huge decision, a life-changing decision and I'm trying to stick with it. Joe deserves it. I want to do the right thing but everything changes when you're near me, Ranger. Everything. I don't understand what you're doing with the phone calls and opening up and telling me stuff. You're scrambling my brain. I don't know what's going on with you."

"Babe, I told you what I want. How can you not know?"

"All I know is that Joe's coming back on Sunday and I need to be able to look him in the eye."

We stared at each other. If she was going to face Joe she had to do it with a clear conscience. Any sexual indiscretion would cloud the issue, I understood that – that's why I had backed off in the first place. I was back in square one. Stephanie looked about ready to fall down. I shutdown so I could think.

My immediate objective was to ensure her safety and comfort. After that I would pick up the game plan – whatever the hell that was now. But this wasn't a game. Stephanie wasn't a game.

I had no fucking idea what to do next. Evie was due soon to negotiate my freedom, sent by the faceless men I answered to. Maybe she could give me a clue on how to get a grip on this. Right now, get Stephanie home.

"Okay, Babe. It's your call."

I walked over to the counter, picked up the photo and looked it over before slipping it carefully back into the envelope.

Stephanie took a step toward me. "What are you doing with that?"

"I'm taking it."

"Why?"

"You don't want it. I do." I placed it on top of the rodent hutch and locked eyes with her, giving her the opportunity to object.

Stephanie returned my look silently. She bit her bottom lip, glanced down for a moment and nodded. A small, self-conscious nod, giving me the photo.

"Thank you." I felt the tension melt from my shoulders. I took the hutch in one hand, grabbed the bags of leftovers in the other. "Let's go."

Stephanie threw her bag over her shoulder, picked up the plastic bag and went out to the living room to put on her shoes, leaning against the couch for balance. She straighted up and turned to look at me, hesitating as she looked toward the front door.

"Babe, trust me."

Stephanie's eyebrows went up in surprise. "I do. I always trust you." She bit her lip and I felt triumph shoot through my gut as I read her face. She trusted me; she didn't trust herself. Game on.

oOo

_*__¡Madre de Dios! - Mother of God!_

_**__SOP – Standard Operating Procedure_

_***__Chingalo!__ - Fuck it!_

_****__Chola – slut_

_*****__Mierde! La cage mal. No lo puedo mas. - Shit! I fucked up bad. I can't do this any more._

_oOo  
_

_You've finished reading the chapter? Do you feel good? Do you feel angry? Confused? Review! Review! Review!_


	20. Chapter 20

_Sorry it took so long to upload this. There have been urgent family issues which prevented me from wrapping my head around the writing._

_With thanks to __**Alfonsina, Dee, JannyB **__and __**Magdalync**__. I absolutely depend on them to toss the rubbish back in my face and demand better of me._

_Thanks for every review. I know I turn the screw to get them from you but I really am very grateful._

_Disclaimer as always: The characters aren't mine (except Hank, in this chapter, and Paco, and the storyline is mine, too) and I use them without permission. I make no profit from their use._

_................................................................................................  
_

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 20 : Eviction from Hotel Denial**

A silent, tense ride to Rangeman was followed by an equally silent and tense elevator ride up to seven. Not only was I still shaking with unfulfilled need but the feeling that somehow I had let him down weighed in the pit of my stomach like cold lead. I don't know what Ranger was feeling but the practiced blank mask was icy. I had a passing familiarity with bad Ranger juju and this felt very, very bad.

I clutched the plastic bag containing my salvaged clothes in one hand and my mother's paper bags of leftovers in the other. With the constant nausea, it seemed unlikely I'd be eating any of the food but Ranger had picked it up before we left my apartment. He carried Rex's glass aquarium. The envelope with the photo rested on the top and glowing white under the elevator downlights. I wondered what he was going to do with it and why it seemed so important. Ranger never displayed personal items like photos in his apartment; he wasn't going to start with a naked one of me. He fobbed open the door and stepped back to let me through.

Ranger walked directly to the kitchen to settle Rex's hacienda on the bench then headed toward the bedroom with the envelope in his hand. A couple minutes later he came back into the kitchen without the envelope but wearing a utility belt slung on his hips and substantially more hardware. Badass Ranger, dark, dangerous and hotter than hades.

Tank had called twice during the drive so I was clued in that something big was going down that required Ranger's personal attention. It didn't occur to him to brief me beyond the usual, need-to-know basis. All I had was Tank's cryptic comment back in my apartment that the extraction scene needed cleaning up, whatever that meant.

Ranger studied me, checking I was safe enough for him to leave me alone for the night. "You need anything, Babe?"

They were the first words he'd spoken to me since we left my building. The true answer needed more words than could fit into one sentence so I skipped it. "Nope. I'm covered."

"You're still pale."

"I just need sleep."

He looked me up and down. "You should eat something first."

I glanced at the covered tray of food Ella had left for us, still untouched. "So should you. You'll need your strength to whip the bad guys' asses. You'll never be faster than a speeding bullet eating rabbit food." I opened my eyes wide and raised both brows.

His mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile and the weight in my gut lightened.

"Come 'ere." He reached out a long arm to pull me close, stroked both hands down until they rested at my waist. "You don't need to worry about my food intake."

I shrugged. Kidding around a little seemed to ease the tension. "I bet the last meal you ate was a salad. That's not superhero food. The Justice League approved diet includes pasta, pizza and dessert. Didn't you get the memo?"

Ranger shook his head but the tail of the smile warmed his eyes. He'd thawed, just a little. "I don't know what time I'll be back. Ella's on call if you need anything."

"Nah, I'll be out like a light."

He held my eyes for a moment longer then tucked a blowsy curl behind my ear. The familiar tingle made its way up my back as his fingertips brushed across my cheek.

His expression reverted back to serious business. "Get some rest, Babe. Tomorrow Lester and Hank will go over the records of your movements and cross-check it with you. We'll close this thing down then sort out everything."

Everything? Stalker everything or us everything? I decided not to ask. Tomorrow was soon enough to face any hard stuff. "Okay."

Ranger left to do whatever it is superheroes do in the dark of night and I went back to the kitchen. I peeked under the covered tray. The gourmet meal for two looked just as appetizing as I expected. The smell of Ella's lemon chicken with rice would normally have me salivating but tonight my stomach clenched. I picked a couple green things out of Ranger's salad for Rex and put fresh water into his little bowl.

Mommy duty completed, I headed for the shower. I'd grabbed my own shower gel before leaving my apartment so I stepped out of the shower smelling of my usual Dial Honey and Vanilla body wash. I purloined a fresh t-shirt from Ranger's walk-in closet and dropped the four black t-shirts from the plastic bag I'd brought with me into the laundry basket.

The bed beckoned; Ranger's bed has a siren call composed just for me. Smooth as satin sheets, mattress like a cloud, pillow soft as a dream and the feeling of complete security I get nowhere else. I always slept well in Ranger's bed.

I couldn't do it.

After what had taken place in my kitchen, sleeping in Ranger's bed felt brazen and wrong somehow. I sighed and pulled down a light comforter from the top shelf of his closet, plucked a pillow from the bed and took them out to the couch. It was more comfortable than the mattress in my apartment, even before it was sliced and diced.

oOo

I woke up enveloped in that tantalizing Ranger scent again but this time I knew it wasn't a dream. Not that my dreams had been Ranger-free; his eyes had haunted me. First, the bone-melting, smoldering eyes that had caused spontaneous ignition when he raised them to me from the photo, then the piercing eyes of black ice that stabbed right through my chest when he saw the ring. Ranger had quashed his anger quickly but not before it gave me freezer burn.

The seductive, masculine fragrance that teased me awake came partnered up with Egyptian cotton sheets and a mattress that subtly cupped my shape. I was in Ranger's bed.

I breathed deep and squished my eyelids tight, not wanting to wake up. I knew I hadn't got there under my own steam but beyond that I wasn't going to look too closely at the ways and means. I was in his bed, surrounded by his scent and I'd enjoy it as long as I could hold reality at bay.

I was pretty sure I was alone. There was no electric zing indicating the presence of that perfect body I'd wrapped myself around back in my kitchen. The recollection gave me a hot flash and made my gut sink with humiliation at the same time. Last night I hadn't allowed myself to think about what I'd done but in the half-sleep state the realization surfaced.

Discovering the ring on my finger had been a Twilight Zone experience; I knew I had put it on yet I couldn't believe I'd done such a thing. It was like the morning after a drunken weekend when you wonder how uploading your karaoke performance to Facebook could ever have seemed like a good idea.

The diamond twinkled at me from its little glass bowl next to the sink when I'd dashed into my bathroom to grab some stuff before we left. There it was, not stolen. A pang of disappointment had preceded the lash of guilt. Leaving it behind in my derelict apartment would be too much like abandonment; a symbolic act. Morelli deserved better than desertion by default.

I slid it onto my finger until I could stash it in my pocketbook and, of course, Ranger found it at exactly the right moment. Or wrong moment. Whatever, the truth will out.

My lids snapped open to dispel the image of Ranger's black, furious eyes. I never, ever wanted to see that expression on his face again and know it was there because I had disappointed him.

I sighed and looked over at Ranger's side of the bed. Empty but the bedding was crumpled and the pillow had a head-sized indentation. I rolled across to snuggle into it, burying my nose deep in his scent. Guilt clubbed me over the head again and nausea rolled through me. I shut my eyes tight, breathing slowly but my gut kept heaving. I ripped off the bedding and raced for the bathroom.

Due to my starvation rations there wasn't much in my stomach to throw up but it didn't make me feel any better about having graduated from perpetual queasiness to actual vomiting. I was shaky so I stayed kneeling on the tiled floor, leaning against the spotlessly clean and sanitized toilet bowl until my legs stopped feeling like rubber. I stripped off the t-shirt I'd slept in and stepped into the shower for some hydrotherapy.

The warm water streaming over me while I sat back against the tiles made me feel better. The bathroom still smelled faintly of Bulgari from Ranger's morning shower and the steam freshened the scent. My level of resistance to Ranger was at an all-time low and I couldn't afford a Bulgari-induced emotional breakdown. I scrubbed up with my own shower gel and the smell of vanilla invaded the bathroom.

When I was done, I stood in Ranger's closet to figure out what to wear. My closet space had gradually expanded as Ella added to the supply of clothing in accordance to the jobs I was employed to do. By now, two shelves, an underwear drawer and a section of the hanging space were dedicated to my stuff, all in Rangeman black from my underwear to my hair bands, except for some distraction outfits that were unfit to be seen in decent society. I wasn't an employee anymore so the idea of wearing Rangeman uniform cargos and shirt felt like I was claiming false feathers. I picked out bike shorts and a sports tank I used on my rare visits to the Rangeman gym.

Dressed for the day, I straightened up the bed and checked what else needed picking up in the bedroom. Nothing. Not a pin out of place. Ranger had no clutter and Ella kept things spotless. I headed to the kitchen to check on Rex.

He was strolling around the ranchero, inspecting the change of location. His little food bowl was half-full of what looked like raw seeds, nuts and grains mixed with sawdust. Probably Ranger's muesli. Rex's expression struck me as smug. I reached in to scratch him behind the ears.

"Don't get too comfortable. We're not staying no matter how much better you like the food." Rex popped a nut into his cheek and turned his back on me.

Ella had brought a covered breakfast tray for me. The thought of food made my gut ache but I checked it out of curiosity. A bowl of fresh cut fruit, some light vanilla yogurt and home-made croissants. I consulted my stomach; it hung like a battered, shrunken, empty sack but the sight of food didn't increase the queasiness quotient. I picked out one of the strawberries to nibble as a trial and moaned as the succulent, sweet tang hit my tongue. It felt like I hadn't eaten for a decade. I perched on a stool and finished every last mouthful of manna from Ella.

I stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and scrubbed down the counter. Ella kept the kitchen showroom perfect but I meticulously arranged the crockery in the cupboards and the cutlery drawer anyway. The pillow and light comforter I'd fallen asleep under were still on the couch, so I put them away and straightened up the cushions. Then I went back to the bathroom to wipe down the sink and the shower glass, scrubbed the toilet and removed every sign of use.

I prowled around the living room again in the hope of finding some dust to wipe off, knowing it was fruitless. I was running out of distractions. There wasn't even an issue of Soldier of Fortune on the coffee table or a copy of MacArthur's memoirs on the shelf that I could pretend to read.

I was being evicted from Hotel Denial and I didn't like it one bit. The few designer decorations scattered on Ranger's shelves occupied me for five minutes. There was a large, beautiful, lacquered Japanese box occupying a shelf by itself and I wondered whether Ranger had picked it out or if it was the decorator's random choice. I ran a finger over it idly. It was dust free. Curious to see if it was as beautiful on the inside, I took off the lid to check and saw the photo.

Not Paco's photo that Ranger had claimed last night. This was a photo I had never seen before, of the two of us with our arms around each other in a casual embrace, eyes locked on one another. There were flames and smoke in the background with people milling around – probably one of my car deaths – but it was such an intimate photo. Ranger was smiling, his face warm and open and heartstoppingly beautiful, and my face expressed...oh, holy bat shit! Adoration. No other word for it. I hope to God and all the saints that I don't look at him like that in public. Like he's a superhero.

I sank onto one end of the couch with my knees up staring at the photo, the only photo that I'd ever seen in this apartment, kept so meticulously devoid of personal effects, and tried to resist opening the Pandora's box of my thoughts.

Ranger. He was the fulcrum upon which everything depended. I couldn't put my finger on when Ranger had become the center point of my life but he was there now, indisputably. It wasn't because I relied on him to watch my back, which he did willingly and unstintingly. It was because when Ranger wasn't around, it felt like I was missing a lung. I needed Ranger like I needed air to breathe.

That need didn't fit, couldn't fit, with my decision to marry Morelli. He was back tomorrow. This week I'd have to give up the key to my apartment. The weekend heralded Grandma Bella's birthday party, when I'd be introduced as the future Mrs. Joseph Morelli to the extended clan. The weekend after that...the wedding. The surprise wedding masquerading as a housewarming barbeque.

None of the wedding preparations were done. Morelli and I had made a list but that was as far as I'd gotten. I hadn't bought a dress – probably just as well, or it would have been ripped to shreds by my rose stalker along with my lingerie. I was going to have to go shopping for a wedding dress. My stomach heaved and the world tipped as vertigo crashed over me. I clung to the couch and took long, slow breaths while I waited for the room to stop spinning.

What the hell was I doing? I was marrying Morelli on the rebound, that's what I was doing. Not that Ranger and I had been in a relationship – I wasn't delusional. But I loved him – was in love with him – and he didn't love me back. When I realized it was never going to happen, I'd turned to Morelli. As if that was going to change how I felt.

Ugh! I slapped my hand to my forehead. Way to go, Stephanie, make a train wreck of Morelli's life as well as your own.

What the hell was I going to do?

Easy. I was going to stop thinking, get the hell out of here and go find a giant margarita. I dropped the photo on the coffee table, grabbed my pocketbook and keys and hustled out the door into a wall of muscle dressed in black.

"Ow!" I might have broken my nose. I felt over it gingerly.

Tank steadied me. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes. Mary Lou. I have to see Mary Lou." I'd come up with the perfect solution! I was going to go get drunk with Mary Lou and spill my guts.

"Can it wait? Ranger asked Hank and Lester to go over the records of your movements. I came up to see if you were ready to join them."

"I can't, Tank. Not now. I have to see Mary Lou. I'll do it later this afternoon." If I wasn't too drunk to talk. I had get this stuff off my chest with Mary Lou or I'd go crazy. Tank stared at me, shrewd brown eyes studying my face.

"Tank, I have to go." I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. "It's important. I have to."

Tank sighed, shaking his head a little. "You've got your trackers, right?"

"Yes! The pen is in here, and look –." I searched the bottom of my pocketbook and pulled out the tiny personal tracker. "I'll attach this to my shorts." I pinned it to the inside of the waistband. "See?"

He nodded once. "Hank goes with you."

"What? No! I don't need a bodyguard. I'm just going to Mary Lou's. She doesn't harbor stalkers in her pantry."

Tank's expression changed to pleading. "Steph, don't argue about this. Hank goes or Ranger will kill me."

I sighed. My mental faculties were in no condition to argue. "Fine. But can he stay in the car and keep his distance?"

Tank nodded and accompanied me back to the elevator. I leaned against the back wall while Tank gestured to the security camera – probably some form of battle language telling Hank to get his tight little tushy downstairs.

The elevator stopped on five and the doors opened to reveal my warden, Hank. He saw me slumped against the back wall and grinned. "Hey, Steph. You sure you're up for a field trip?"

"Social visit to my oldest friend. You don't need to come; we'll be gossiping in her kitchen for hours. You'll be bored."

"Not a problem." He held up an iPod, his grin reaching supersonic dazzle level. "Audiobook."

Huhn.

"Steph." I looked up at Tank. "You lose Hank, you get me dead. You hear?" I nodded, reluctantly. Hank got in the elevator and Tank got out.

We split off to our separate cars, me to Ranger's Mercedes and Hank to one of the black SUVs. I adjusted the rear view mirror and caught a glimpse of the brown paper bag in the corner of the back seat. It was the outfit Grandma had asked me to return today for a refund. I'd dropped the bag into the back of the car and forgotten about it.

I reached back for the bag and peeked inside to check out the goods. Leather, of course, folded up in scarlet tissue paper. I couldn't tell what it was and I didn't want to risk it being caught on any of the Rangeman security cameras so I didn't pull it out.

I rummaged for the receipt. The Marquee de Sade on Stark Street. I groaned, banging my head against the headrest and rolled my eyes up so far I could look into the back seat. How the hell does my grandmother find these places?

Well, the Marquee de Sade could wait until the afternoon. I had a date with a big bottle of tequila. Speaking of which, I pulled out my phone to call Mary Lou so she could clear the deck for the morning. Emergencies didn't get more urgent than this.

_TBC_

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_If you're reading this, you probably read all 3280 words above it. Can you give me 20 words of your own? Yes, I'm challenging you to leave a review! Even if you hate it. Even if you've never left a review before. Even if I don't know you from Adam (or Eve, more likely). You can do it!_

_In return, I promise not to take as long to get Chapter 21 written and uploaded._


	21. Chapter 21

_I know, I know! I said I'd be quicker uploading but getting ready for a journey takes more time than I thought. It's short but there's another, longer chapter ready to go – just fiddling with the final couple paragraphs. It will be up within three days, promise!_

_With thanks to __**Alfonsina, Dee, JannyB **__and __**Magdalync**__. I absolutely depend on them to toss the rubbish back in my face and demand better of me._

_Thanks for every review. They are great motivators so keep them coming._

_Disclaimer as always: The characters aren't mine (with the exception of Hank and the incidentals who appear in this chapter, and Paco, and the storyline is mine, too) and I use them without permission. I make no profit from their use._

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The Usual Mayhem

Chapter 21: Reality Check

Mary Lou allowed me just one lousy margarita to take the edge off and threatened to call my mother if I didn't start talking. That was below the belt. A threat like that almost broke the BFF code. Plus, I was miffed that she refused to give me the tequila bottle until after lunch. On the other hand, she managed to get Lenny and all three kids out of the house until three in the afternoon and the whole point of coming over was to spill my guts and let her play oracle.

So now Mary Lou was staring at me with her eyebrows meeting over her nose and her mouth in that little moue that meant she was going to sock it to me. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know."

She rolled her eyes. "That's a big crock of crapoli. You didn't come over here just to tell me you agreed to marry Joe but are in love with Ranger?"

"I didn't realize I was in love with him."

"You do now. _And_ you almost did the old horizontal mambo with him last night." Mary Lou's eyes glazed over and she did that fanning herself thing with her hand. "I can't believe you let him stop."

I sighed. It was hard to concentrate. I was so nauseous it was a struggle to keep my margarita down – and seeing I wasn't getting any more until after lunch, I really needed that tequila to cope with the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to look reality in the eye.

"I told you so. I said sort out your feelings about Ranger before rushing into anything with Joe."

"Lou! You're not helping." I glared at her, but it was a poor imitation of my patented Jersey Girl glare because I felt like throwing up.

"Sorry. Couldn't help it, it's human nature to say it at least once." She looked apologetic for a nano-second. "And I'm trying to help but you got your fingers in your ears singing la-la-la! You came here for a reality check and it's my job to give it to you. I'm serious. You can't keep doing this, Steph. It's a slow descent into madness."

"I know. But Lou, I'm scared to lose him."

"Which one? You can't keep them both, like a matching pair of fuzzy dice." Mary Lou always was a smart mouth.

"You're not cutting it as Dear Abby, you know that? I don't _have _them both. Nothing's changed with Ranger just because I had a moment of clarity. He doesn't want a relationship with me and he's been honest about that. But Joe..." I sighed. "He's always been there, Lou. Since I was six years old. I can't just end it."

"Wait. You're going to marry Joe because you played choo-choo with him when you were six? Have you lost your mind? You didn't want to marry Eddie just because he had his hand up your Confirmation dress. You don't get married because you're used to a man; you get married because you can't breathe without him."

I didn't stay to argue. Her comment had slipped under my guard and punched me in the gut. I lurched off the couch and stumbled down the hall with my hand over my mouth.

Mary Lou's pink high tops dashed past me, squeaking on the wood floor all the way to the powder room. "Hold on! I'll get the door."

Thanks to Ella's breakfast, there was more in my stomach to heave this time. Mary Lou stood behind me to lift my hair back while I clung to the porcelain bowl, supporting me as only a best friend can. It reminded me of our misadventures in high school. I decided to forgive her for threatening to call my mother.

"Hold on, honey." She sped up the hall again, banged a couple cupboard doors and reappeared with a wet cloth and a spare toothbrush. "Here you go."

I cleaned up then put down the lid on the toilet to sit and recover while Mary Lou leaned against the doorway.

"I told you tequila before lunch was a bad idea."

"Would you stop saying 'I told you so'? Besides, it wasn't the tequila. This is the second time around today. I've been feeling nauseous for weeks."

Mary Lou stared at me, her eyes widening and looking scary-intense.

"What?" I asked.

"How many weeks, exactly? Is your period late?"

My marrow ran cold and someone must have plugged a needle into a vein and was draining me of every drop. Little black spots danced in my vision. The light-headedness made me slump sideways onto the wall next to the toilet for support.

Mary Lou knew as well as I did that my monthly cycle was precise. I could tell the date and time by the arrival of my period. Twenty nine days, cramps after dinner, every month since I was fourteen. Eyes shut, I did a rapid-fire calculation.

"Oooooh, shiiiit!" I wailed. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"Don't panic. Maybe you had a virus or something. And you're real stressed."

"Lou, it's _six days_. I can't believe I lost track."

Mary Lou's brow wrinkled up but her mouth was set in a determined line. "Let's go upstairs. I've got a pregnancy test from a couple months ago I didn't end up using."

With an arm around me for support, she hustled me upstairs. She found the test kit in the bathroom cabinet and handed me two wrapped sticks.

"Use both of them – we want to be sure. Pee on them mid-stream, then we wait for seven minutes. I'll be next door."

My hands were shaking so badly it was hard to hold the sticks still when I peed. I joined her in the bedroom and we sat on the edge of her bed, staring silently at the two little indicator windows. I couldn't breathe. A vice squeezed my chest so tightly my heart had to pump like crazy against the constriction. Slowly, little blue lines appeared.

"Blue line. That's negative, right? It's negative. I'm not pregnant, right?" I had never wanted to flunk a test as badly as I wanted to flunk this one.

"You're not pregnant."

"Definitely?"

"The test is accurate if you're even one day overdue. Absolutely, definitely not pregnant."

I collapsed backwards onto her bed, limp with relief, with my hands over my eyes. "Thank God!"

After weeks of burying all my anxieties, this was too much. I broke down into deep, rasping sobs, gulping breaths in between. Waterworks exploded, tears dribbling down the sides of my face into my ears and onto Mary Lou's bedspread.

Nightmare visions had flashed through my mind of a pregnant me, barefoot, with a huge belly, cooking pot roast in Morelli's kitchen – Grandma Bella pointing her finger at my belly and prophesying fruitfulness – a troop of black-haired Morelli boys with clever, wicked eyes calling me mom and playing choo-choo in our detached garage with all the little girls – a small yard, clean windows, burg gossip – a programmed life of ordinary, suffocating predictability, bound hand and foot until I was old, with gray sausage curls and red leather hot pants inherited from my grandmother.

When the nuclear storm was over, I plucked tissues from the box Mary Lou handed me to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. Those seven minutes of waiting had freaked me out but they brought a cold, hard certainty.

"I'm not going to marry Joe."

Mary Lou lay down next to me, curled up on her side and supporting her head on her hand. "When are you going to tell him?"

I stared up at her ceiling. "Joe's coming home tomorrow. I'll put on my big girl panties and tell him when I take Bob over." The hollow pull of sadness tugged at my heart. "Maybe I'll go early so I can pack my stuff and clean up the house a little. It'll make it less awkward later for both of us. It's going to be hard enough for Joe without me drawing it out even more."

I plucked some more tissues to wipe my face and turned to look at her. "I don't know what to say to him. No matter what I say, it'll be bad."

"It'll be worse if you don't say anything."

"I know." I looked back up at the ceiling, sniffing. "I don't want to marry him. I don't want the kind of life he wants. He's a good man, and I'm going to miss him, but he's just...not the one. We don't fit."

"What about Ranger?"

I shook my head and blew out a deep sigh. "That's a whole 'nother flavor of Ben and Jerry's. I need to face Joe before I can even think about Ranger."

Easy to say. I sat up, my head now full of Ranger again. He's a force of nature; impossible to avoid or ignore.

"Steph, if you chew a hole in your lip you'll start that herpes rumor again."

I released my lip and looked at Mary Lou, still sniffing. "I don't think I can do it, Lou. I don't think I can have a casual, no-strings affair with Ranger. I love him; I can't be his sometimes-lover. That's all he wants but I need more. He won't give it to me. Maybe...I should step back from him."

"You're giving up both fuzzy dice now?" She shook her head. "You're making a lot of fast assumptions here, Steph. Are you sure he still feels that way? From what you said, it sounds to me like he's been making a lot of moves to get closer to you and open up – all those phone calls, and the photos. And he hates the ring! While you've got your big girl panties on, maybe you should talk to Ranger, too. Lay it all out."

I stared at her, considering Ranger's recent behavior and weighing my need to know against my fear. I replayed our last phone conversation: _This is a big bed and I want you in it._ And then last night: _I told you what I want on the phone. How can you not know?_

Nope. No hint of relationship there. Even if he was seeking more intimacy, in the end it was still limited to sex. My wants and his wants didn't match. I couldn't bear another iteration of Ranger's rejection. Then I'd have no choice but to walk away for good. I sighed at my own conclusions.

Mary Lou sat up. "Tell you what, we were going to the day spa for your birthday at the end of August. How about we do it early? If you're broke, I can make up the difference. A girls' weekend, to rest and recuperate and you can think things through."

"Really?" Our annual spa indulgence for my birthday was a highlight of the year for both of us. The prospect of escape, even if it was only temporary, was tempting but laced with guilt that I'd be running away while leaving Morelli crushed, picking up the shattered remains of his dreams. "I don't know. Do you think I should? Just run away? When would we do it?"

"We can go this weekend, if we can get a booking on short notice. Otherwise we'll make it the weekend after, now you're cancelling the housewarming."

The logistical implications of my decision to end my relationship with Morelli suddenly hit me and I groaned. I had to cancel all the invitations. I had to face my mom. Ranger had rearranged his plans for the weekend because I begged him to – I wondered if he'd be annoyed.

Morelli and I would both have to deal with the burg repercussions. The weight of guilt increased when I considered that Morelli would suffer the consequences of my decision alongside me. I should never have said yes.

And I had to call Dillon to make sure my apartment wasn't rented out! Actually, that was good news; maybe I was broke, but I was going to be independently broke.

A sudden rush of energy lifted me as the weight of dread shifted. I leaned across to hug Mary Lou. "Thanks, Lou. Let me think about it."

My stomach growled and she snorted. Mary Lou let go of me to stare down at my belly. "You think your stomach will cope with food?"

My gut still felt tender but there was no nausea. None at all. The overwhelming sensation was hunger. "Bring it on."

"Time for lunch. I'll check the fridge for leftovers while you go clean up your panda eyes."

"Lou?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you've got cake."

TBC

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_Did you know that only one in approximately twenty readers takes the time to let the writer know the story has been read? It's true. So I'm challenging you to leave a review! Even if you hate the story. Even if you've never left a review before. Even if you don't know me from Adam. It's a very great kindness. You can do it!_


	22. Chapter 22

_As promised, a long chapter and uploaded within three days of the last!_

_With thanks to __**Alfonsina, Dee, JannyB **__and __**Magdalync**__. Their reality checks keep me hones_

_Tomorrow at this time I'll be on a plane and travelling for 6 weeks, so review replies may be delayed. But I appreciate every review, that's for certain!_

_Disclaimer as always: With the exception of Hank, Paco and the incidental characters in this chapter, the characters aren't mine and I use them without permission. I make no profit from their use. The storyline is mine._

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**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 22: The Marquee**

I was comfortably stuffed. Mary Lou's leftover roast chicken with potatoes and gravy healed my poor, neglected stomach, followed by the last scrapings of some macaroni and cheese her kids hadn't eaten, two slices of choc-caramel cheesecake with whipped cream and a Hershey bar with my coffee. The weight I'd lost on my enforced Saltine diet was finding its way back home to mama.

We loaded the dishwasher while we plotted how I could avoid humiliating myself in the Marquee De Sade in front of Hank. I still hadn't got a look at the outfit Grandma wanted me to return but I was prepared for the worst. The idea of Hank accompanying me into a store that pandered to fetishes was bad enough, Hank witnessing what was bound to be a huge embarrassment made me squirm. The story would sweep through Rangeman like wildfire.

After some brainstorming, Mary Lou and I worked out a cunning plan to distract him so I could sneak into the store. It had some kinks in it but it would work if Mary Lou kept her head.

"It'll be fine," I assured her, unclipping the tiny personal tracker from the waistband of my pants and handing it over. She slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Lula and I wing it with plans like this all the time." The results weren't always what the Lone Ranger and Tonto hoped but full disclosure right now would be counter-productive.

"I think we should all go in one car with Hank driving." Mary Lou had got an appreciative eyeful of Hank when she'd brought him out a cup of coffee and she wanted a closer view. "No point in taking two cars. The Mercedes will be safer parked in front of my house than in Stark Street."

That was true. No one would steal it – they'd assume it belonged to a dealer and leave it alone – but incidental gunfire and graffiti work wasn't out of the question in Stark Street. I didn't want anything to happen to Ranger's car on my watch. "Okay. And let me guess; you want to ride shotgun."

Mary Lou grinned as she held her bag open so I could drop the Rangeman tracker pen into it. "Yes, I do. Flirting is a perfectly innocent pastime and I don't get enough practice. I gotta maintain my skill level."

She swapped out of her high tops into hot pink heels, stopped off in the powder room to freshen up her lip gloss and we headed out to Hank's SUV.

Hank lowered the window to flash us a smile. "You two finished discussing women's business?"

"Yeah, now we have some shopping to do. Thought we could all go in the same car. Do you mind?"

"No problem. It'll make it easier for me to guard your body."

I retrieved Grandma's bag from the Mercedes and we got in the car. Hank turned to us expectantly. "Okay, ladies, which mall are we headed to?"

"Stark Street."

His eyebrows went up. "There's no mall anywhere near there."

"Yeah, I know. Lula told me about a dress shop along the strip that she thought I'd like."

Hank didn't look convinced but he pulled out and headed north, dialing into Rangeman as he drove. "Hey, Woody. You got Steph's trackers on line? Yep, she's right here. No, no problems at this end, just checking they're transmitting properly. We're leaving the Mercedes behind. A-okay."

We made Hank drive up and down the length of Stark Street a couple times so Mary Lou and I could eyeball a likely dress store nearby. We passed by the Marquee – a big store by neighborhood standards, extending across a triple shop front with flashing neon signs that looked lurid even in the July sunshine. We were in luck.

"That's it. That's the store." I pointed to a shop front only three doors away from the Marquee De Sade, the grimy window bedecked with feather boas, platform shoes and a lot of neon Lycra. It looked like the kind of place Lula got all her clothes when she was a lady of the night. Come to think, maybe she still got her clothes there. The rapper beat pounding out the door was audible through the closed windows.

Hank frowned. "You want to look for clothes in there?"

"Sure. I'm looking for, um, some distraction outfits. It's a specialized field." He shook his head at my wide-eyed and innocent look and parked street side.

We stepped out of the air conditioning and into the sullen heat and smell of Stark Street and trooped in. Hank scanned the store, evaluating the threat level of the two women picking through a bin full of glittery scarves. They checked him out in return for entirely different reasons. Their eyes were firmly on his ass. I signaled to Mary Lou and she launched into her role, chatting up Hank so he wouldn't notice me at rear of the store.

I randomly picked five or six hangers off the racks and headed towards the single changing room, a curtained off area at the back. I dumped the clothes on the chair in the corner and peeked out through the curtain.

Mary Lou had maneuvered Hank so he had his back to the rear of the store and was pointing out to him the merits of an orange Lycra boob tube. He had his arms crossed tight over his chest and was trying to sink into the floor. Poor guy didn't have a chance. I looked over to the shop attendant who was keeping a professional eye on the customers.

"Psst! Hey! Can I talk to you for a minute?" I called over the pounding beat of the music, trying to keep my volume down so Hank wouldn't hear.

She assumed I needed help with a fitting. "What? Is the zipper stuck or something?"

"No, I need to leave for five minutes without the hunk at the front seeing me. If I use your back door, will you let me back in?"

She eyed me suspiciously and twitched her head towards Hank. "Is he a cop?"

"No, he's a friend. I need to do some business in the Marquee De Sade I don't want him to know about. I just want to sneak out for a minute."

She scrutinized Hank. "Huhn. I hear you, honey. He's a mighty fine handful of man flesh but some of these studs just don't understand a woman has needs they can't take care of."

"Er...Right. Exactly. So, does the Marquee have a back door?"

She snorted. "You kidding me? They do most of their business through the back door."

She checked the coast was clear and gestured around the corner. I grabbed my pocketbook and the bag with Grandma's outfit and scooted after her. She pulled the door open and pointed left. "It's that way. You can't miss it. There's perverts in the alley so I ain't leaving the door unlocked. You'll have to knock. I usually hang near the back of the shop so I should hear you."

"Thanks. I won't be more than five minutes."

I looked up the alley toward the back entrance of the Marquee. A couple of men older than my dad hanging around the door threw me a furtive look over their shoulders before hurrying away from me with their hands in their pockets.

I slunk toward the entrance like a shadow, making sure not to touch the swinging door as I pushed through it. Electronic security scanners stood on either side of the entrance then the short, narrow hall turned right where a scrappy little guy with dark glasses and a lot of studded leather was standing security. I walked through another swinging door straight into a dungeon.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a dungeon but there were a lot of chains and shackles, even a rack, and most of the merchandise on display consisted of black leather or shiny pvc, studded, spiked and suggestively displayed. Curiosity was pricking me but I had to get that refund fast so I could get back before Hank got suspicious. I dragged my eyes away from the displays and they landed on tiger print lycra stretched to bursting point over a generously proportioned black woman with red hair. She had a big box under one arm and looked to be sizing up some strange-looking double looped leather cuffs she was holding up in either palm.

"Lula?"

Her head snapped around and her eyebrows twitched up. "White girl? Damn. This is awkward."

Lula doesn't get embarrassed so I figured she meant awkward for me. "What do you mean? I'm not here to buy anything, I'm just returning this outfit for Grandma." I held up the bag.

She looked at the bag. "Okay."

I looked at the strange-looking, doubled-over leather cuff things she'd been holding up.

She dropped her hands as if to hide the contents from view and sighed, rolling her eyes. "They're for Tankie, okay? They're ball spreaders and I can't find any big enough for my man. You can't say nothing about it; I don't know why, most men would get all full of themselves, but he's embarrassed about his size."

"Count on it." I wasn't saying nothing. I was working overtime to bleach my brain of the visuals.

Lula rearranged her grip on the box she was holding, a satisfied look on her face. "At least I found a love swing that'll hold a full-sized woman."

The photo on it was of a woman trussed up in a swinging leather harness by her ankles, thighs, wrists and middle. A man with all his moving parts enhanced with studded leather was suggestively poised between her spread-eagled legs. I shook my head hard to shift the image. I could have happily lived my whole life without visualizing Lula and Tank in that position.

"That was too much information, Lula."

She snorted. "You're a real prude sometime, you know that? Where's the hunk? Tankie told me you've got a man watching your body whenever you leave Rangeman."

"Hank's with Mary Lou in the dress shop a few doors down. I gotta move and get this refund before he realizes I'm gone. Lula, you can't tell Tank I slipped the collar."

"Hey, I know the drill. But you gotta watch yourself; you gotta stalker on your tail, girl. That's serious shit. And you should take some time to take a good look around while you're here. Might give you some ideas of how to spend your time up on Ranger's floor. I'll be happy to provide my professional advice. That fine-ass Cuban man can thank me later."

I rolled my eyes. "Give it up, Lula."

She shrugged and put the ball spreaders back on the shelf. "Just trying to help your skinny white ass."

"I gotta move." I wove my way through the maze of displays, trying not to meet anyone's eye, while Lula headed toward the movie section.

The guy behind the counter was talking to a customer and fiddling with a set of clamps and shackles attached to a complicated leather harness. He saw me approach and put down the equipment to move across towards me. Big guy, bald, black sideburns and moustache, black leather vest stretched across his chest and belly, tattooed all over; the butch half of an S & M couple. He looked like he had a working knowledge of all the dungeon equipment and maybe moonlighted as an executioner, but he was businesslike enough.

"You need help?" His voice was deep and gravelly.

I placed the brown paper back on the counter. "I'm returning this outfit for my grandmother. She changed her mind and wants a refund."

Butch rested his weight on straight arms, hands on the counter and looked at the bag. "Okay, show me what you got. And I need your sales slip."

I handed him the receipt and fished the outfit out of the bag. "She said she's only returning the outfit, she wants to keep the accessories." I shoved the folded leather across the counter.

He held it up to inspect it and my jaw dropped.

It was a little like a mutated, sleeveless Cat Woman outfit after Freddy Kruger got to it and chopped off half the material. Soft, black leather, figure hugging from chest to ankle. It was slashed all over and held together with leather ties up the inside and outside seams of the legs to leave lots of skin showing. Ties laced up the center seams of the pants as well, front and back, right through the crotch. More skin was left bare in front between ribcage and hipbone. The top was laced corset-like, with strategic peekaboo gashes over the front so the ties could be undone to release breasts and nipples. Skin showed all over the place. The outfit was designed specifically to draw attention to and reveal all the bits that are generally covered up.

Attempting to wear this was beyond doubt the craziest thing Edna Mazur had ever conceived. I was embarrassed being within two feet of it.

Butch looked from the outfit to me. "Your grandmother about a hundred years old, with attitude and red sausage curls over her head?"

"That's her."

He smiled and twitched his head. "I liked her. She had spunk and knew what she wanted."

"She's a handful."

He laughed. "I bet." He lay the bondage suit down on the counter and looked down the inside to the crotch and his bushy black eyebrows went up. "Sorry, I can't give you a refund for this. It's been worn."

"What? No, she never wore this. She bought it for a photography shoot but they changed the theme and she had to get something else."

He shook his head. "Maybe but I can't take your word for it. It was sold with a special hygiene sticker and it's been removed. I told your grandmother it couldn't be returned without the sticker. I can't take this back. It's against health regulations."

"Can't you do anything? It's two hundred and fifty dollars. What am I going to do with it?"

Butch shrugged. "Sell it on eBay."

"Don't you sell pre-loved items?"

Butch shook his head. "Health regulations."

A thin, reedy voice interrupted our negotiations. "You're pretty hot, you should wear it. You'd get a man all excited in that outfit."

It was the guy Butch had been talking to when I walked up to the counter. I hadn't looked at him beyond noticing he was heavy-set with long, stringy hair and wearing a discolored gray t-shirt stretched over his beer belly.

I turned to give him a little Jersey attitude and found him leering at me, yellowing teeth grinning through big, rubbery lips. A bell went off in my head; heavy jowls, pasty complexion and pouchy gray eyes that looked dead. I remembered them staring at me out of a photo and making me shudder.

This was Eric Bordhern, the psychopathic sexual deviant who had eluded Ranger for nearly four weeks. Vinnie had bitched about having just two more days before he lost the bond money, and here was the skip, giving me a perfect opening to bring him in.

I took a big breath and smiled at him. "You think this outfit would look good on me?"

He licked his big, rubbery lips and inspected me like a gourmet meal. "You could put it on right now to model it and I'd show you a lot of appreciation."

I squished a shudder and dropped my eyes coyly. "Well, it's not the kind of thing I'd wear in public. Maybe we could do it somewhere a little more private."

His dead eyes got big and round. "They got private booths upstairs."

Butch cut in. "They're for video viewing. We only allow one person at a time in the booths."

"That's okay, I was thinking of somewhere I could take my time – if you're interested." I fluttered my lashes at Bordhern, stood straight and took a long, deep breath. "My car is just outside. I could give you a ride."

He licked his lips again. "Sure, sweet lips. Let me just buy this box of goodies." He indicated the harness contraption with the clamps and shackles and pulled out his wallet. "We could put this to good use."

Butch shifted his glance between me and Bordhern and the harness and looked back at me again, shaking his head a little as if to say, _now_ I've seen everything. He rang up the purchase and handed over the box to Bordhern, who tucked it under one arm. He stuffed Grandma's outfit back into the paper bag and held it possessively. He made to grab my elbow but I ducked away from his reach.

"Not so fast, big boy. Don't touch until I give you permission. Patience." My voice came out hoarse and breathless from the sudden wave of fear that washed through me but it worked. Bordhern leered, revealing his yellowing teeth again and tendrils of panic unfurled in my stomach.

I led him out the front door towards the Rangeman SUV, fumbling in my bag for the stun gun. Couldn't find it. Lipstick, hairbrush, hairspray, keys, wallet, mints, gum, phone, a couple of empty TastyKakes wrappers, pens, notepad, mascara, tissues, sunglasses, gun. Gun? How the heck did that get in here? No idea if there were bullets in it and I wouldn't shoot him anyway. I kept scrabbling and found the handcuffs but I wasn't going to pull them out until I had him unconscious on the ground. We were nearly at the car and I couldn't find that damned tiny, teeny stun gun, allegedly the most powerful and reliable stun gun for its size ever made.

"So you going to open up the car?"

"Yeah, just looking for my keys." I was running on adrenaline now, barely keeping panic at bay.

Bordhern was looking up and down the street like the nervous fugitive he was. His hand closed around my elbow and he started pulling me away. "I don't like standing out here in public. I got a car around the corner. We can leave yours here and come back for it. Let's go."

"No, I got 'em. Just give me a second. I want to take my car." I resisted but he was strong and we were moving away from the car.

At last, my hand closed around the stun gun. I flicked on the switch with my thumb, brought it up out of my bag and across to his chunky fingers gripped around my arm and zapped him. His dead, gray eyes flickered to life for a couple seconds then he gave a little hiss and went down. Resisting the urge to kick him in the ribs, I heaved him over onto his stomach to cuff his hands behind his back. I sat on the curb next to him and fished out my phone with shaking hands.

"Hey, Hank? Can you come out to the car? No, I'm not in the changing room. I'm at the car. Long story."

Ten minutes later, Bordhern was trussed like a chicken in the back of another Rangeman SUV on his way to Trenton PD with Junior and Cal. He'd come to as Ranger hefted him to pile him into the car. Bordhern caught sight of me and he got really ugly, threatening retribution, calling me names and attempting to fight off Ranger. Ranger lifted him by the front of his t-shirt and banged him into a wall. He deflated and came quietly but his flat eyes stayed on me as they drove him off.

Now, Tank was having stern words with Hank on the sidewalk; Lula was watching the scene with hands on hips; Mary Lou was getting in some flirting practice with Lester and I was doing my best to stare down a furious, Cuban glare.

Ranger was mad as hell. I could tell because he looked completely calm and sartorially splendid in his black suit pants and black silk shirt yet my hair had frizzed up into a white girl afro from the electric tension zapping around him.

"I wasn't expecting to run into a skip. If it wasn't for Bordhern, I would have been back in five and no one would have been the wiser."

His voice was soft, a tad above a whisper, and piercing enough to skewer my liver. "That is precisely the point. It's the unexpected that will kill you; that's why we try to anticipate all possibilities, to minimize surprizes." He paused for a moment. He look up at the sky and took a long, slow breath before locking eyes with me again. "Stephanie, you have a serious stalker yet you ducked your guard and removed your trackers. Then you ran into this evil fuck and decided, on a whim, to take him down without any preparation or back up. If you value your life, you don't go in without back up. I don't go in without back up. Relying on luck doesn't cut it."

Damned long speech and very effective. I dropped my gaze from his, unable to withstand the scorching lash of twin laser beams. "Okay. It was unprofessional. But can you tell Tank to lay off Hank? It wasn't his fault."

Ranger didn't reply, just watched me with his arms loosely folded over his chest, his face closed tight and unreadable. "Where's the outfit you didn't want Hank to see?"

My eyes glanced over at the brown bag on the pavement, crushed from Bordhern landing on it. Next to it was the box with the S & M harness thingy. The top of the box had opened on impact with the pavement and a leather strap with a shackle attached was poking out.

Ranger scooped up the bag and held it open to look inside. He reached in and pulled out one of the trouser legs, lifting it up to examine the leather lacing going up both leg seams to hip and crotch.

The tight, grim line of his mouth gave way for a moment to a quick smile and his eyes flicked over to me. "Nice."

He dropped the pants back into the bag and handed it to me, then picked up Bordhern's box of torture gadgets. "Bordhern's?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Ranger tucked the shackle back inside and flipped the box so we both saw the photo on the label. A woman was shackled by ankles, wrists and neck, bridled with a ring holding her mouth wide open for her master's pleasure, leather straps clamped onto her nipples and another strap affixed between her legs. There was little doubting what was clamped there.

He looked back at me, his face dark and deadly serious again. "He didn't get to break it in."

I swallowed hard. In the heat of the moment and with an adrenaline rush pushing me, I hadn't let myself think about it. Ranger's words forced me to see with crystal clarity. If the stun gun hadn't worked, Bordhern intended to muzzle and fetter me just like in that photo. Black spots floated through my vision and I swayed.

Ranger caught my elbow and I grabbed hold of him with both hands. He pulled me close, rubbing my back to soothe me. I buried my face in his chest and took a big, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "You're right. I was stupid. You're right to be mad about this but I really didn't mean to make things difficult."

"Babe, you're not stupid. You're brave, you're intuitive and impetuous, sometimes you're reckless but you're never stupid."

Still holding me, supporting me, he took my chin and gently coaxed me to look up at him. "You have amazing instincts; that was a good, clean take-down. I'm angry because I failed to keep you safe. My biggest fear is that I'll lose you. I can't live with that. Babe. Please."

Time seemed to stop. I stared into those seductive, warm brown eyes, absorbing the message that I was important to him. He was scared of losing me. Ranger couldn't live with my loss. The infamous Plum power of speech utterly failed me. I nodded. "Okay," I breathed.

He gave me a small nod. "Okay." The tiny hints of tension around his eyes and mouth relaxed. "Are you and Mary Lou done? Hank and Lester still need to cross-check their intel with your recollections."

"Yeah, I'm ready. But we left the Mercedes back at Lou's."

"I'll take care of it. You can go back with Hank and Lester to get started. Tank can drop off Mary Lou."

I felt a tiny stab of disappointment that he wasn't coming back to Rangeman with us. His corporate outfit meant he was meeting with a client and was probably running late because of this Stark Street detour.

Ranger still held me in the tight circle of his arms and made no move to let go. "Morelli's back tomorrow?"

My heart flapped like a flock of ravening seagulls at the thought of what tomorrow would bring. "Yeah. Late afternoon."

"I'm flying out of town early in the morning for about a week. Personal business. I probably won't see you until I get back."

He had just volunteered information about his movements. Normally I couldn't coax even that tiny scrap of information out of him. "A week?"

"Six days tops; maybe less. Plenty of time before the housewarming." Ranger never broke a promise if he could help it.

There were so many words trying to crowd out through my mouth they caused a log-jam:_ There is no housewarming, no engagement, no wedding. Where are you going? With whom? What for? What kind of personal business? Can't you put it off? _I couldn't say anything until I had that final discussion with Morelli. He had to know first; I owed him that.

I clamped my bottom lip between my teeth to stop myself from blurting it out. Ranger moved a hand up to my mouth and coaxed my lip free with his thumb. He ran it back and forth over the seam of my lips then bent his head to kiss me.

Oh boy, that man can kiss. Gentle, soft, tender, deep, yearning. I lost myself. I was so immersed in Ranger's kiss I was heedless of where we were. I moved to wrap myself around him and he stopped me, traced his mouth to my ear. "Not a good time, babe. But when I'm back, we're having a long, serious talk."

There it was, the chance to lay it all on the line, once and for all. Giddy, I locked onto his eyes, smoldering now, dark and liquid, no longer hard or angry. "Yes, we will." I reached up to kiss him softly one more time before releasing my hold. His silk shirt was wrinkled and I tried to smooth it flat.

The short encounter left me rubber-legged, as usual, and I stepped back to lean against Hank's SUV. It occurred to me we'd put on quite a show. Hank, Lester and Tank had big smiles on their faces and Mary Lou and Lula were all bug-eyed. The shop assistant from the dress store and a bunch of Stark Street regulars were blatantly staring. All that was missing was the popcorn. The heat from my blush worked its way right up to the roots of my hair.

Ranger glanced at his wrist as if to check the time but there was no watch. He looked around, spotted it by the wall Bordhern had got friendly with. He walked over to pick it up, took a look at it, frowned slightly and slipped it into a pocket.

He stepped back to me. "I have to be somewhere, babe." His exhalation might have been a sigh if anyone else had done it. "The 24 hour guard is in place and you know you've got access to seven any time." His mouth tightened. "Goes against the grain to leave while you're being threatened but I can't put this off."

"It's okay, I'm totally with the program. I won't duck and weave, I promise."

I was rewarded with a dazzling smile. "Proud of you, babe."

I felt myself grow a little taller. He walked back to the Porsche and I watched his ass and the subtle roll of his broad shoulders all the way. I couldn't help myself.

I hadn't even noticed Lula and Mary Lou appear next to me, leaning against the SUV. Lula was wiping her eyes. "Hot diggity dog, girl! He's got this whole _love me tender_ thing going on. Made me all emotional. Don't you never, ever again try telling me that man don't love you."

I sighed. "It's complicated. There's all kinds of love." I repeated the words Ranger had said to me months ago. Ranger's kind of love didn't necessarily translate to commitment. His determination to have a long, serious talk had my heart fluttering but I wasn't going to set myself up for another fall. Tomorrow I had to break up with Morelli and that weighed heavy enough.

"Let's go, people," Tank signaled. Lula smooched Tank and sashayed off to her Firebird, leaving the big guy with a big smile on his face. Tank waved until she disappeared around a corner then led Mary Lou up the street to where his car was parked to give her a ride back home. Hank, Lester and I took off back to Rangeman for an afternoon of nit-picking through my movements since the first rose appeared in my apartment.

They grilled me for three hours about every, single trivial event over the past four weeks, like how long it took to walk from the elevator to the front door of Paco's hotel, and whether the lights were on the porch when we left my parents' house after the trial run of the photo shoot.

Around six, I felt the electric tingle run up my spine and turned to look for Ranger. He was back in his regular uniform of black cargos and t-shirt and heading our way. I smiled at him and put down the printout of the GPS record of my movements. He stopped behind my chair, his hand resting on the nape of my neck.

"Progress?"

Lester's smile was smug as he replied. "You were right. We've got her pinned to all the locations at the right times."

I leaned back in the chair to look from Lester to Ranger. "Who are you talking about?"

Ranger looked down into my face. "Alicia. Seems she was plenty crazy before you provoked her on the boardwalk."

My mouth fell open and I took a moment to absorb the information. "Alicia Lopes? Wow. What made you suspect her in the first place?"

"She was on my radar. We've followed her movements as part of the protection we're offering Lopes' son."

"So, now we go to the cops?"

"First, we do a little more digging. Everything we have is circumstantial. Won't take long, though, and now we know who to target we can do a better job of protecting you."

He threw a glance at Lester and Hank in that patented, silent, Rangeman language and they nodded. Then he eased my head back with his hand and leaned down to give me a fast, succulent kiss that left me tingling all over. Ranger seemed to have lost the inhibition about being physical in front of his men. Lester and Hank were wearing grins again.

The corners of Ranger's mouth were twitching as he looked down into my dazed face. "I have to go, babe." He made to move but I regrouped my scrambled neurons and grabbed hold of his belt.

"Wait a minute. What about the rose guy? And you better not think about cutting me out of this."

"Now that we have Alicia, we'll find him. And we'll make use of your spidey-sense." He glanced down at my hand and his lips twitched. The unintended intimacy of my grip made me flush. I let go of his belt and Ranger vanished. I was going to be part of the team and that was good enough for me.

I turned back to the guys. "So, now we know who the culprit is, are we done?"

Lester tossed his pen down onto the desk and leaned back in his chair, stretching out his shoulders. "Guess so. We start digging into her associates on Monday. You gonna have time to help with the searches? You're moving this week."

I dropped my head. "I can make time."

Hank laughed. "You gonna take time between shopping sprees to spend your fifty thousand?"

My head popped back up and I frowned. "What are you talking about? I don't see any shopping sprees on my horizon. I'll be lucky to come out even at the end of the month."

Very lucky. Now I wasn't moving in with Morelli, I'd have to beg and borrow to keep afloat. When I spoke with Dillon that morning he said I could keep my apartment on the promise of some payment toward the rent within the next two weeks but I might have to live without phone or power until I got another skip.

Lester looked surprised. "Didn't Tank tell you? You're getting the full bounty on Bordhern."

"But it was a Rangeman contract. You must have spent a lot of resources looking for him over the past four weeks."

Lester shook his head. "Ranger told Tank you did it without any Rangeman input so you've earned it all."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Overwhelmed, for sure. Fifty thousand dollars. My brain rocked at the idea of that much money. I'd be able to pay off my debt to Macy's. I could refurnish my apartment. I could replace the Mustang. And I'd find a way to repay Ranger; he said there was no price for what we gave each other but he did so much for me I wanted to repay him somehow. It wasn't fair for Rangeman to carry the loss.

While I contemplated how to spend my sudden riches, Lester and Hank got ready for home. "G'night, Steph. Hal's on you tonight if you leave the building," Lester reminded me. "He's bunking in 4G and is on call."

I shook my head. "No need. I'm going to sleep." I called out to Hank before he took off. "I'll pick up Bob around lunch, if that's okay."

"No problem."

I took the elevator up to Ranger's apartment and collapsed on the couch. The day had been one hell of a roller coaster and tomorrow was going to be worse. The heavy weight had been growing in the pit of my stomach as I went over and over tomorrow's conversation with Morelli. It never got better.

A knock on the door announced Ella's arrival with a covered tray. "Hey, Ella. Thanks for making me dinner."

"No problem. I enjoy cooking for you; I get to dust off my dessert recipes." Her grin was mischievous. She winked as she put the tray down on the granite breakfast bar. "Ranger told me he'd be out until very late so I prepared the dishes just for you; I don't think he'd approve but he'll never know."

She let herself out and I took the cover off the tray. A rich, beef stew with creamy mashed potatoes and a gratin sauce, followed by chocolate torte with whipped cream and strawberries for dessert. No sign of rabbit food.

The aroma from the stew made my mouth water. A scurry to the fridge got me a beer and some green stuff for Rex, then I pulled up a stool and tucked in. I just about licked the plates clean.

I pushed away from the bar with a contented sigh. No nausea; none. The last mouthful of beer raised a burp, then I cleaned up. I was loading the plates into the dishwasher when I felt the first sudden, familiar cramps low in my belly. That time of the month had finally arrived. Thank God! Both pregnancy test sticks had been negative but there had still been some doubt in the back of my mind. Getting my period now gave such a sense of relief it made me limp.

I had supplies under Ranger's sink so I headed to the bathroom to take care of business and unwind in the shower. Ranger's shower is a luxurious experience. The multiple shower heads and hot water soothed as I brooded over the next 24 hours.

Morelli was due home just before dinner. I figured I'd go over around lunch, clean the house and pack what I could to take with me then wait for him to get home. Mainly, I chewed over what to say and how to say it, how to contain my own sadness so I could do justice to Morelli's distress. Morelli's pain as well as my own was all my fault; I agreed to marry him when I should have known better. It was going to be bad but I hoped it wouldn't be ugly. Maybe, if neither of us lost it and started yelling, we could maintain some semblance of friendship.

And then there was Ranger, and the long overdue discussion he wanted to have, and the bounty he was intent on handing over to me. I knew he wouldn't accept cash; another way would have to be found. At least now I could cover my part of the cost of the spa weekend, though it was sweet of Mary Lou to offer it as a birthday gift.

I stepped out of the shower scrubbed and clean and feeling better than I had in a long time. The guilt was gone; that's what made the difference – the endless tug, between a sense of obligation to Morelli and the yearning for Ranger, was gone.

With a soft, thick towel wrapped around me, I padded into Ranger's dressing room to change into panties and one of his t-shirts for bed. He'd left his cuff links and watch on the dresser shelves. The cuffs were gold and onyx; the watch was deceptively simple – three small knobs and a double chrono ring meant it probably made coffee in the morning if he wanted it to. Or used to. There was a crack across the front and the hands weren't moving. Must have broken it when he dealt with Bordhern.

A little light bulb went off in my head. Ranger had a broken watch. I had to solve the problem of how to reimburse his fair share of the fifty thousand bounty. _And,_ now that I thought about it, his birthday should be round about now; I remember he'd told me he was two months older than me. My solution was only a phone call away.

I grabbed my phone from the kitchen and dialed Paco. "Hey, Paco, have you got a minute?"

"Yeah, but not much more. I'm meeting Meg for dinner and I'm running late."

"Does that mean you two have got it together?" Meg was Andy's nanny, a bright young woman with a warm smile. The chemistry between her and Paco had been obvious and I hoped it would blossom.

I heard the smile in his voice. "Maybe. We're trying it out. What can I do for you, Steph?"

"You know that watch you took photos of? I wonder whether you could get one for me, fast."

"You're in luck. I've got one on order to pick up on Monday. You can have it and I'll order another one; I can wait six weeks. _And,_ you get it wholesale: eight and half thousand."

I was buying a watch for eight and a half thousand dollars. I hoped it lived up to the hype and survived his superhero lifestyle.

"Thanks, Paco. But are you sure? I can wait." Although I didn't want to. The idea of giving it to Ranger as close to his birthday as possible was important to me.

"Steph, it's not a problem."

"Well, if you're sure. I really appreciate it." I debated whether I should say anything about Alicia. I decided against it; the evidence was entirely circumstantial and I didn't want him to worry about Andy just on speculation. Besides, Rangeman was protecting Andy; if the search turned up anything that impacted on Paco, I'd let him know.

I shut the phone and went back to the bedroom, flopping backwards at my ease onto the middle of the bed. An object caught my eye, a picture frame in the middle of what had been blank wall.

I turned my head and gasped. It was Paco's photo, the one of me naked except for some artfully draped satin. Ranger had it professionally framed and it hung on the wall on his side of the bed. It was the only photo in the whole apartment, except for the one hidden in the Japanese lacquered box. Which wasn't in the box any more. It, too, was professionally framed and sat on the bedside table, tilted so Ranger could see it from his pillow.

I stared at the two photos. Why did he do that? Why did Ranger choose to display them so conspicuously? Why now? He had to know I'd see them.

I drew some fast conclusions and dialed Paco again, my heart pounding loud and my breath quickening. "Paco, do you think you can get the watch engraved?"

"Sure. Give me a second, I need a pen and paper. Okay. Go. What's the inscription?"

I dictated it for him then hung up and stared at the photos some more. When Ranger came back, I'd lay it all out. All or nothing this time. Six days, he said. Six days.

_TBC_

* * *

You know it's feeback time, right? Just a few words to let me know whether the story works for you, is all. I won't mind if it doesn't ring your bells, honest.


	23. Chapter 23

_Well, I'm back, as one of my favourite fictional characters once said._

_Thank you for your patience during my six week peripatation around the US. Herewith, the break up chapter, which I suspect some people think was too long coming._

_With thanks to __**Alfonsina, JannyB **__and __**Magdalync** for keeping me honest. __**Dee** is on a cruise so she had to pass on this chapter.  
_

_Disclaimer: Any characters you recognise from the books of Janet Evanovich aren't mine and I use them without permission. I make no profit from their use. _

_The storyline is mine, as are the characters that you don't recognise, including __Hank, Paco, Alicia and any incidental characters which appear through the story._

_Edit: I re-wrote this chapter and updated on 7 August 2010, because I was dissatisfied with the original. I was so dissatisfied with it that it gave me writer's block (some real life stuff also has had a huge impact on my ability to write, but I am confident it will pass and the story will be written). The outcome of the chapter is the same but the tone of the showdown between Steph and Morelli is much improved.  
_

oOo_  
_

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 23: Showdown**

The distant sound of the front door latching closed behind Ranger woke me from that floaty place where reality and dreams intermingle. As usual, I didn't know where he was going, only that he had personal business and he intended to be away for no more than six days. I also knew he'd kissed me before leaving. That's what roused me from sleep; I could still taste his kiss.

I stretched and turned my head to check the clock on Ranger's bedside table; five-thirty. Next to the clock was the framed photo of the two of us. He had retrieved it from where I'd left it and placed it back next to the bed, angled so he could see it. So I hadn't dreamt it. I glanced up at the wall; yep, there I was, brazenly draped in satin and looking down at myself in Ranger's bed. Holy cow! I still couldn't wrap my head around the idea of Ranger having photos of me displayed in his apartment.

The crumpled sheets proved Ranger had shared the bed with me at some point between the time I fell asleep after midnight and when he left before dawn. I hadn't seen him at all. He'd come and gone like a ghost. I rolled across the bed to burrow into the nest left by his body and hugged his pillow. There was a suspenseful moment as I waited for the familiar guilt and nausea to hit. Neither came – not the guilt and not the nausea. I sighed contentedly and settled in to snooze until a more decent hour, my nose in his pillow.

The sounds of Ella moving in the kitchen just before nine woke me from another version of my flying dream. It had begun the same way it always did, with me perched high above my parents' front yard, a crowd of familiar faces below, Bob leaping around trying to reach me while Mom called for me to come down. I turned my back on the 'burg and flew away. I looked down and, for the first time, perfectly outlined below me, was the shadow of my invisible ride, the giant shape of a bat. Batman. Typical. I work it out for myself and _then_ my sub-conscious decides to pony up.

Time for me to pony up, too. Today I would put a permanent stop to the destructive merry-go-round I'd been riding with Morelli.

I threw off the sheet and sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting in from the kitchen had me scrambling out of bed. I wrapped Ranger's bathrobe over the black t-shirt and followed my nose.

"Good morning," Ella smiled, "I just brought in breakfast." She nodded toward the tray.

"Thanks, Ella, but you didn't need to go to the trouble. I can make myself something."

I lifted the cover and found home-made cinnamon pancakes, a bowl of fresh, sweetened berries, whipped vanilla yogurt and maple syrup. "Ooooooh!"

I dragged a stool to the breakfast counter. "This is so good! I can't believe Ranger won't eat this."

Ella chuckled. "He's very disciplined."

I rolled my eyes and talked around a huge mouthful. "Yeah, and it gets hot in August, too." An idea struck me and I stopped chewing. "Ella, does Ranger ever eat dessert?"

Ella smiled and shrugged. "On occasion."

My eyes bugged out. "What occasion? Which dessert? Is there a particular one he likes?"

Ella looked pensive, weighing up whether Ranger would mind her giving out that kind of information. She took pity on my curiosity and leaned her elbows on the counter conspiratorially. "Every now and then he'll indulge in _tres leches_. It's a very rich Cuban cake soaked with sweet, condensed milk with a meringue cream topping. His Abuela Rosa made it when he was a little boy. He can't resist it so I try not to tempt him too often."

I blinked. The evocative vision of a little Ranger, his mouth stuffed full of cake, meringue on his nose, blissfully licking the spoon clean, made me smile.

Ella laughed at me. "I tell you what, I'll make it for you one night. Are you staying? Ranger said he didn't know."

"I'm...not sure what I'll be doing." Things had gone too fast to give any thought to it beyond the fact that I wasn't moving into Morelli's. Of course, Ranger didn't know that yet.

I planned to go back to my apartment but the problem with Alicia and accomplice complicated things. Ranger probably figured that if I moved into Morelli's as planned I'd be safe enough, especially as around the clock Rangeman security would undoubtedly stay on me no matter what. I bet the guys wouldn't deem my apartment safe, though, not by a long shot. Ranger was due back by Friday; I could stay in his apartment until then and save Tank the angst of trying to keep me safe somewhere else.

"Actually, I will stay here. I'm heading out this morning but I'll be back tonight."

Ella let herself out and I turned my full attention to finishing breakfast. After weeks of nausea, my taste buds were greedy for Ella's heavenly bounty. I cleaned up and then used the phone in the kitchen to call down to the control room.

"Hi, is that Slick? Yeah, it's Stephanie; who's with me today?" I was determined to keep my promise to Ranger to stick with the program.

"That would be Hal; he got a full night's sleep so he's with you all day." That made me happy. It was always good to have a buddy with me when facing scary stuff, and today was filled with scary stuff.

I disconnected and dialed Hal. "Hey, I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour. Okay?"

Getting dressed posed a problem: Ranger's closet held only Rangeman black or distraction outfits, neither of which were a good choice for meeting with Morelli. Taunting him was the last thing I wanted to do. I'd have to make a detour to my apartment to change into jeans, which meant I could also check in with Dillon to see what needed to be done before I moved back in.

I met Hal in the garage and we headed out to Hank's so I could pick up Bob, who was deliriously happy to see me. I had the drop top open so he jumped over the door into the Mercedes and immediately scattered long, orange dog hair all over the seats. I'd have to get the car cleaned before giving it back to Ranger.

Hal followed me to my apartment and parked near the dumpsters. I took the spot near the back door. I wasn't going to be long so I left the top open on the convertible, locked up the car and cracked my knuckles.

Hal pushed open the back door and followed Bob and me into the lobby. "You know a cleaning crew came through yesterday; the mess up there is all gone."

I'd forgotten that Ranger was going to send them through. "Really? That's great. I just want to change before we go to Morelli's and then I need to see the super to figure out when I can move back in."

Hal's forehead crumpled like he was doing complex algebra. "Are you moving back in here? I thought you were moving to Morelli's this week."

I sighed. "Change of plans."

"What kind of change?"

"Big. Very Big."

He didn't look surprised. He just looked at me for a bit. "Does Morelli know?"

"Not yet."

Hal pursed his lips as we waited for the elevator. "You telling him today?"

We stepped into the empty elevator and ascended. I nodded, "Yeah." My stomach had dropped and it had nothing to do with the elevator.

"You're doing the right thing."

I craned my neck to look up at him, disbelieving my ears.

Hal shrugged. It was like watching boulders rearrange on a mountain top. "I'm sorry for the guy but you're doing him a favor. You can't keep stringing him along 'til the boss pulls his head out of his ass."

My mouth fell open. I'd never heard that many words out of Hal's mouth before and, beyond that, I was shocked at how close he was to the truth.

Hal steered me out when we reached my floor and took the keys from my hand. "About that cleaning crew. They did a really thorough job."

The door swung open and Hal stepped in first to conduct the security sweep. I followed him in as far as the foyer and froze. Thorough job was right. My apartment was completely cleaned out except for a neat stack of sealed boxes in a corner of the living room. Ranger's cleaning crew had gotten rid of all the damaged stuff, sent everything else to Goodwill and cleaned and sanitized every room. Nothing left. All the surfaces sparkled. Bob nosed through the apartment, perplexed that there was no food bowl in the kitchen.

I looked up at Hal, who was watching me carefully for signs of hysteria or breakdown. I closed my mouth and shrugged. "I guess they were trying to help me with the move."

Hal shrugged back. "Tank said you wanted to send everything to Goodwill."

That was true, back when I wasn't intending to return to the apartment. There was a bright side; I never liked that furniture anyway. I'd bought it cheap because I needed something to sit and to sleep on. As soon as the check for Bordhern came in, I would have $40,000, after I paid for Ranger's watch, to completely redecorate.

Someone on the cleaning crew had conveniently labeled all the boxes so I could pick out some cut-off jeans and a t-shirt without opening up all of them. I repacked one of the boxes with the clothes I wanted to take back to Ranger's, sealed the rest up and stepped into the bathroom to change.

I locked up and we took the elevator down to the basement where Dillon lived in a subterranean pad filled with music equipment and a new home gym that took up most of his living room. He did a double take when he opened the door to find Hal on his doorstep but he recovered fast and invited us in. Bob found last night's pizza box on the coffee table. He begged for the last, cold piece and wagged his tail when Dillon gave it to him.

"Thanks for checking in, Steph. You're definitely moving back? I wasn't sure, after seeing that team clean out your apartment yesterday. I've had a couple enquiries for it. Mrs Balog wants it for her nephew."

Hal left my box of clothes near the door and went over to check out Dillon's free weights set-up. I sat on the couch and wrestled the empty pizza box out of Bob's mouth. "I'm definitely coming back. I'll have the money for rent this week but I'm not sure when I'll be moving in; there are some complications."

Dillon stifled a laugh. "You and complications, eh? No problem. I've still got your security deposit so I can hold the place for you. If you want, I can repaint and do some maintenance while you're out. I was going to do it anyway for the next tenant."

"Can you change the tiles in the bathroom?" Seemed unlikely but you don't get if you don't ask.

Dillon smiled. "Afraid not. Paint comes under maintenance. Major expenses like bathroom renovations have to be approved by the landlord. Maybe you'll get lucky with the next firebomb." There's always a silver lining.

Dillon wandered over to join Hal and they did some bonding over the gym equipment. The fitness kick was a new venture for Dillon so he asked a lot of questions. They finished their conversation and knocked knuckles. They were buds now.

Hal carried the box out to the parking lot and stashed it in the back of the SUV. Bob and I peeled out of my lot toward Morelli's with Hal following close behind. I parked curbside in front of the porch and sat watching the house with Ranger's CD playing softly to give me courage. Bob jumped out over the door and ran up the porch steps, turning around at the top to give me come hither looks. He was very excited to be home.

My stomach was churning. Hal walked over to the car and folded his arms across his chest, studying me patiently. "You going to wait out here until Morelli gets back?"

"I was thinking of going for an ice cream. Wanna drive down to the beach with me to get a frozen yogurt cone?"

Hal opened the driver's door and gestured me out. I sighed, grabbed my pocketbook, locked up the car and trudged up the path. I handed Hal the door key and stepped back so he could make the security sweep of the house and assure himself my stalker wasn't waiting to jump me in the pantry. Bob was over-excited about being home so I grabbed his collar. I followed Hal and walked straight into his back.

"Hey, can you warn a person when you do that?"

Hal didn't budge.

"What's going on?" I peeked around him. Morelli was standing at the bottom of the stairs with a box in his hands, staring icily at Hal. Bob pulled out of my grip and leapt up at Morelli, barking and wagging his whole backside.

"Good to see you, too, Bob, but settle down now." Morelli commanded and shifted his eyes to me. He looked tired.

I side-stepped past Hal toward him. "Joe! You're home early." I nodded towards Hal. "Security check; I've got a little stalker problem."

"I heard. Bob, come on buddy, get down!" Bob started sniffing around, making sure the house was as he'd left it. Morelli glanced back at Hal. "I think I can take it from here."

Hal nodded. "I'll be in the car," he told me and pulled the front door closed behind him.

Morelli was still holding the box so we stood awkwardly in his foyer with a happy Bob doing circle work around us, oblivious to the tension. I asked the easy question. "Where's the car? I didn't see it outside."

"Gina has it. She offered to go buy groceries." He walked into the living room to put the box down on top of a couple others stacked in a corner. Bob headed towards his food bowl in the kitchen and I followed Morelli, tossing a battery of questions at him.

"Why didn't you call me to let me know you were home early? When did you get back? How did it go? Are you okay?" I suddenly noticed the boxes were next to some small items of furniture we'd brought over from my apartment and my old laundry basket filled with my odd gadgets and bits and pieces. "What are you doing with all my stuff?"

"I'm packing it for you."

"Why?"

Morelli blew out air, glanced up at the ceiling and back at me. "What are we doing here, Stephanie?"

Fucked if I knew. It looked like Morelli was about ten steps ahead of me.

"Are you...breaking up with me?" I asked, trying to get a grip on the situation.

"No. There's nothing to break up. You were never in this relationship."

"That's not fair! We've been on and off for years and you had as much to do with that as I did."

"I always put you first!" His voice was hard and loud.

"Oh, really? Like when you told me I had to choose between you and my job?" I snapped, hands on my hips.

"You don't have the training to do your job! You're a danger to yourself and it scares the shit out out of me!" Morelli was yelling now, emphasizing his point with his hand gestures. "You promised you'd get training; have you done anything about that? Have you even thought about it?"

"It's only been three weeks! And what about your promises? I can't count on you to be in my corner. When things go wrong you're always ready to believe it's my fault. And you're still talking about having babies, even after we agreed to leave the subject alone!"

"Well, what the hell is wrong with having babies? I want a family!"

"Stop yelling at me!" I yelled back.

Morelli put his cop face on and he got his voice under control. "I talked to Gazarra yesterday. He didn't want me to worry about you, in case I heard from someone else, so he filled me in on the stalker. He wanted me to know you were okay and safe at Rangeman."

My pal Eddie, trying to look after me. Sometimes a good friend is a pain in the ass. "Joe – " He cut me off with a shake of his head.

"You could have stayed here and the guys would have made sure you were safe. You know we look after our own. You could have _chosen _to move in to _our _house a couple of days early."

I sighed. "Yes."

"You didn't. You _chose_ to stay with Manoso."

The answer came reluctantly. "Yes."

We stared at each other. His mouth was a tight, angry line. "Just like that. Three years we put into this and, two weeks before the wedding, you walk out on me for Manoso."

"No, it's not like that!"

"Yes it is, Stephanie! It's exactly like that. I feel like a fucking idiot!"

"This isn't because of Ranger!"

He didn't have to say anything, his face shouted disbelief.

"It's not the way you think. Even if Ranger didn't exist, the two of us couldn't have made it work. We want different things, Joe, and we can't get them from each other."

He shook his head. He wasn't yelling now. His voice was quiet, like he didn't want to say the words. "Bullshit. We would have found a way if we both wanted the relationship. Fact is, you don't love me enough."

It was a question more than a statement and I knew he wanted me to say it wasn't true. He pinned me with his cop x-ray vision, looking for the answer in the secret cavities of my heart.

I swallowed past the ache in my throat. "Joe – "

Morelli stopped me with a derisive snort, his face bitter.

Before either of us had a chance to say anything, we heard the key in the back door. Footsteps crossed the kitchen, then the sound of bags being dumped on the table before Gina appeared in the doorway.

She stopped awkwardly, her eyes widening with surprise at walking in on our stand-off. "_Merda!_ I go now! I am sorry for to intrude."

She glanced at Joe as she backed toward the kitchen and he gave her a small, humorless smile. She nodded to him in return. "Telephone to me if you need something."

We heard the back door snick shut and looked at each other again. I raised both eyebrows. "She's got the key to the back door?"

"Don't try to make something of it. Gina has always been supportive of our relationship and you know it."

"She seems very keen to console you now that it's ended." The memory of the soft smile on Gina's face as she watched Joe walk away from the table at Pino's flashed into my mind.

"That's a cheap shot, Stephanie, and you're a damned hypocrite, considering you're sleeping in Manoso's bed. Or are you going to deny it?"

"Nothing has happened in Ranger's bed."

"Yeah. Not in three years. All those rumors are just nasty lies, right?" His tone was hard and icy.

This was exactly how I didn't want it to go, with bitter accusations and counter recriminations. There was a lot I could throw back at him about his own honesty and transparency. We were on a rapid downward spiral unless I could pull back. I sucked in a breath and reined in my temper. "I don't want to fight with you, Joe."

"I'm not fighting. I'm just telling it how it is. You don't like to hear the truth out loud?" Morelli had suddenly transformed into Mr. Spock and the absence of bluster was a little unnerving. "Come on, Stephanie. I've seen how you look at each other. I remember what you were like when he got shot. I know about the late night visits and the black t-shirts you sleep in, about the make-out sessions in the alley; you expect me to believe there's nothing to it?"

"I haven't been having an affair with Ranger."

Morelli just looked at me, incredulous. He shook his head and snorted in disgust. "Lies of omission, Cupcake?"

He wanted it all. Okay, then. I propped my butt on the arm of the couch and took a long, slow breath. "It's true, there's always been an attraction. I...spent the night with him once. _Just one time. _More than a year ago, when we broke up and thought we were done."

I knew for a fact Morelli hadn't been celibate for the duration of our break, but I resisted the temptation to throw it in his face. I'm pretty sure he had suspicions about Ranger at the time but both of us had operated on the basis of _don't ask, don't tell._

There was no sign of surprise at my confession. His mouth merely pressed tighter as I confirmed what he suspected.

"After our break, when we were back together, I kept Ranger at arm's length. Some of the rumors...sometimes we..." I paused, reluctant to say the hurtful words. "The attraction never went away but for a long time I refused to look at it. I was playing with fire, I know that. But I swear, Joe, while we've been together, Ranger and I have never..." I broke off, unable to finish.

Never what? Never had sex? Technically, it was true but it rang hollow. My heart had cheated, and what happened on Friday night was too close to call.

Morelli blew out air and stared down at his shoes, controlling his temper. He's a good cop; he could infer what I was unwilling to say.

"Joe."

"What?" He bit off the word through clenched jaws. "What else could you possibly say?" His eyes were hard, black stones, his breathing labored as he fought back his anger.

"I always thought it was you. I _wanted_ it to be you. Since I was sixteen years old, behind the canoli case. Before that, even. You were the dangerous boy everyone warned me off but I couldn't resist. And then you became the perfect guy from the 'burg who offered me the kind of life I was brought up to want. I really did try to want that life, Joe. And I loved you. I still love you."

My voice croaked to a stop from holding back my emotions and my eyes were prickling but I refused to cry. I looked down at my hands in my lap to get myself in control. "It was so comfortable just to go with it; so easy to be with you. But we keep fighting over the same stuff. You're never going to stop wanting babies. You want a wife and family and everything that goes with it and you deserve to have them. But I don't want those things, Joe. I just don't and I never will. We don't fit. Maybe we did once but we haven't for a long time. I didn't want to admit it. I was a coward."

He stared at me as I watched the fight drain out of him. He sighed. "So was I."

He sank down onto the floor against the living room wall, legs bent and elbows on his knees. "I didn't want to look at it. I kept thinking we just needed more time to smooth things out. I blamed Manoso; if he just stopped moving in on you, stopped encouraging the crazy ideas in your head, we'd figure it out and settle down. But you're right. We don't fit. Better to face up to it now than later."

Bob came in from the kitchen and settled on the floor next to Morelli, his orange head in Joe's lap. I'd held it together until then, but watching Morelli tenderly stroke Bob's silky head pulled me under and I started to cry softly. "I'm sorry, Joe. For everything."

Morelli looked up, his face drawn. "Yeah. So am I."

oOo

_It's been a long time, people. How about leaving a review, eh? Especially if you're mad at me for making you wait eight weeks between chapters. Or if you're new to the story, how about letting me know what you think? _

_Come on, it's easy. Doooo it_!


	24. Chapter 24

_I know it's been a really long time between updates. Apologies but life really had me by the (metaphorical) balls._

_With thanks to __**Alfonsina, Dee, JannyB **__and __**Magdalync**__ for keeping me honest. Special thanks to __**Magdalync **__who mercilessly cracked that editorial whip in this chapter, asking the hard questions and brooking no excuses._

_I'm grateful to everyone who has left a review or sent a PM - you have no idea how encouraging and uplifting it is to hear from people who have read the story. Your feedback is all the recompense needed by the writers on FF and I thank you for every single review. I have tried to respond personally to all of them - if I have not, please forgive. It was an inadvertent omission (or you have messages turned off; a few people do)._

_Disclaimer: Any characters you recognise from the books of Janet Evanovich aren't mine and I use them without permission. I make no profit from their use. _

_The storyline is mine, as are the characters that you don't recognise, including Hank, Paco, Alicia, Andy, and any incidental characters which appear through the story._

oOo

**The Usual Mayhem**

**Chapter 24: Another door opens**

The sound of a phone woke me before 7 am. As the ringing penetrated my sleep fog, I realized it was the apartment phone, not my cell. It kept ringing and I wondered why Ranger wasn't answering until I remembered he wasn't in the apartment. He'd left at dawn the previous morning, leaving me with the taste of his kiss on my mouth and a promise that he'd be gone no more than six days. He hadn't given me any details about the nature of his 'personal business' and I tried not to think about it, not much liking the images of leggy blonds that my imagination conjured.

The phone was persistent. I debated whether to answer; I couldn't think of anyone who would call me on Ranger's internal phone. Maybe it was the Justice League paging Batman to save the world, although they'd probably call on a secure bat-phone hidden behind a secret panel.

I groaned and sat up on the couch. The blanket I'd snuggled under was on the floor, the TV screen was dark except for the DVD logo floating around it, and I was covered in brownie crumbs. They were all that was left of Ella's fudge brownies which, accompanied by a tub of Ben and Jerry's and a bowl of strawberries on the side, had constituted dinner. I figured the combination had covered most of the important food groups. The sugar overload and an Indiana Jones movie marathon had lulled me to sleep.

I answered the phone, just to make it stop ringing, and heard an apologetic Brett calling from the control room. "Stephanie? Sorry to call so early. You've got some visitors downstairs asking to see you."

"Who is it?" I mumbled with my eyes half closed.

"Um...Mrs. Plum and Mrs. Mazur."

My eyes opened wide. "They're _downstairs? _The _two _of them are downstairs? _Now?_ Why?"

"Mrs. Plum is demanding to know why you moved in with...um...why you're staying on seven, and Mrs. Mazur wants to check out the locker rooms."

I was speechless.

"Steph? The guy on the reception desk wants to know whether to let them up. Do you want to see them?"

No, of course I didn't want to see them. "Okay, I guess so. But stall them for a few minutes if you can."

I hung up and stood frozen for a moment, trying to come to grips with the idea of my mother and grandmother in Ranger's space. Oh, my God.

I picked up my cell phone from the breakfast bar and turned it on to scroll through my missed calls; there were eight from my mother since the previous afternoon. Mary Lou had called to warn me as soon as the 'burg rumor mill started spinning. Knowing a call from my mother was imminent, I'd turned off the phone. I couldn't face that conversation until after Johnnie Walker and a bout of ironing had mellowed her hysteria. That's why she was here at the crack of dawn; she wasn't taking any chances of me evading her tongue-lashing.

I hauled ass into Ranger's bedroom to put on some clothes, washed my face and pulled my hair into a ponytail. Closing the bedroom door tight behind me, I raced through the living room to pick up my mess, brushed the crumbs off the couch and fluffed the cushions. With a deep breath, I opened the door. My mom was just stepping out of the elevator with Lester following, my grandmother's arm through his as he firmly held her other hand against his arm; he didn't want to risk her hands wandering to other parts of his anatomy.

Lester must have used his charm to stall them and the charm switch was still engaged. He unravelled Grandma's arm from his and steered her gently in front of him. "Ladies, it was my pleasure. Let me know when you're ready to go and I'll show you the way to your car in the garage." He winked at me as the elevator closed on his smiling face.

Mom turned to look at me wide-eyed. "I didn't park in the garage. How did my car get in the garage?"

I shook my head. "Don't ask."

I stepped aside and gestured them into the apartment, showing them into the living room. Mom settled on the edge of the couch, trying to check out the room without being obvious. Grandma didn't bother disguising her curiosity and wandered around, poking her nose into everything. Thank God I'd shut the bedroom door. Just the thought of Grandma seeing the photos on display in there gave me palpitations.

I brought in mugs of coffee and sat in the armchair, prepared to be grilled. Grandma winked and nodded at me, offering solidarity. Mom clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She cleared her throat, fixed her eyes on me and started.

"Eddie told me you had to move out of your apartment for your own safety because you're being stalked by another crazy person. Then you moved in with this Ranger. And then – what a surprise! – you and Joe broke up again. You don't bother to tell your family any of this and you won't answer your phone. It's all over the neighborhood; we had to hear it from every gossip who has our phone number. You didn't think we had a right to know? You didn't think we'd be worried, hearing it all second-hand?"

I slumped into the armchair. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"I don't want to hear I'm sorry. I want to hear what's happening in your life. I want to hear why you're doing all this." She didn't yell; she was calm, reasonable, unflustered. With her hands neatly folded in her lap, she waited for me to respond.

Complaints and recriminations I knew how to handle; Mom listening attentively for my response was totally outside my experience. Okay, then. I did some mental knuckle-cracking, took a big breath and gave her the Cliffs Notes version of the last three days, judiciously censoring the incriminating parts relating to Ranger.

When I finished, Grandma put down her coffee and reached across to pat my knee. "I always knew you had spunk. It's not every woman has the gumption to walk away from the best buns in Trenton. Ain't she a pip, Ellen?"

My mother was contemplating her lap. Grandma wasn't satisfied. "Aren't you going to say anything? Ellen, tell your daughter that her mother is right behind her."

Mom looked up at me. "Stephie, have you thought about what you're doing?"

Mom's use of my old, affectionate, childhood diminutive threw me for a moment and Grandma cut in before I could reply.

"Of course she's sure! She gave him back the ring and everything!" Grandma shot me a look and shook her head disapprovingly. "That wasn't such a great idea, if you ask me; everyone knows you get to keep the ring."

"Would you let me talk? Is it too much to ask that you let me talk to my daughter?" Mom snapped at Grandma and turned to me again.

Mom paused to gather herself and then asked calmly, even gently, "I just wondered whether you made the decision in the heat of the moment or whether you've thought it through. You can be a little impulsive. Stephie, why did the two of you break off the engagement?"

I scrutinised her carefully, in case this was a trick question, but she seemed genuinely interested to hear. Maybe this time she'd get it. "It's been a long time coming, Mom. Joe is just the wrong man for me, and I'm the wrong woman for him. We disagree about all the important things so then we break up and get back together out of habit but we can't seem to find a way through to where both of us can be happy. We finally realized it's never going to change and stopped deluding ourselves it would work out. I can't make him happy without making me unhappy."

"You don't love him?"

I rubbed my knuckles over my breastbone to ease the ache in my chest as I replayed the memory of Morelli disappearing through the door to his house. The door had snicked shut behind him, closing off forever one chapter of my life.

"Not like that. Not enough to give up what I need. I can't change who I am, Mom, and he can't become a different kind of man for me either."

I steeled myself for a tirade but Mom just nodded. "Okay. If you know in your heart that being married to Joseph would make you unhappy, then you're doing the right thing."

Say, what? I shook my head, certain I'd misheard. "You're not mad? You're not disappointed?"

She gave me a one-shouldered shrug. "I know I pushed you too hard about Joseph. I got carried away." That was a big admission for my mom and I saw her flush a little with embarrassment. "It worries me so much, watching you scramble to make ends meet and putting yourself in danger. I want life to be better for you. I hoped if you settled down with Joseph, you'd be happier. Wishful thinking. It's not exactly a surprise that you want to live life on your own terms. You always did, even when you were a little girl. It made me crazy, you were always trying all kinds of things, always doing things different to everyone else. I never knew what kind of trouble you'd get into next. I still worry about those things. I don't want you hurt."

I stared open-mouthed at my mother. She gave me a small, nervous smile. "Did you know I wanted to be a chef when I was a kid?" I shook my head slightly, disconcerted by the sudden change in topic, and she continued. "My dream was to open a French restaurant in New York City. I wanted to earn a Michelin star."

Grandma was astonished. "You never told me! You always said you wanted to be a nurse."

"That was after Mrs. Salvatore gave me a D in Home Economics. She told me fine cuisine was an art, and I didn't have an artistic bone in my body."

Grandma snorted. "Sour grapes. My chicken paprikash beat her cock-a-vein _[Coq-au-vin, but Grandma can't speak French]_ in the Knights of Columbus cook-off that year."

Mom shrugged. "Well, I believed her. After that, I was scared I'd make a fool of myself so I backed off. Then I met Frank and we fell in love and I settled down in the 'burg, just like everybody else. I stayed home and looked after my family. I haven't been unhappy."

Grandma leaned closer to Mom and patted her knee. "Is that why you're taking all those French cooking classes at the community college? I've been wondering."

"I thought maybe a could start a private catering business. Maybe it's a stupid dream but even if it doesn't come to anything, it'll be worth it because I'm having so much fun." Mom looked back at me. "I wish I'd been brave enough earlier to try what I wanted. You are. You live your life so boldly. You don't let other people's opinions hold you back. I worry, but I'm proud of you."

I blinked intently into my mug; the coffee dregs at the bottom were strangely fascinating. I come from a long line of emotionally repressed people whose attitude to talking about feelings was akin to farting in public. Other than the time she ran over a giant rabbit who was gunning for me, Mom's love and support has always been expressed by feeding me. This heart to heart was comparable to a six-course turkey feast with all the trimmings followed by a ten-tiered, giant-sized chocolate sacher torte topped by Bombe Alaska. I had no idea how to respond.

Mom cleared her throat and sounded a little husky when she spoke. "Your father and I want you to be happy. I was wrong to push you to marry Joseph. I know I can't tell you who to love or what to do with your life. "

The conversation was so raw and real we couldn't look directly at each other. From the corner of my eye, I saw my mom blinking rapidly and showing an inordinate interest in the grain of the couch leather. I had an urge to leap over the coffee table to wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face in her lap, the way I did when I was a little girl, but that would have embarrassed both of us.

Grandma broke through the awkwardness. "Well, isn't that something! I knew the Mazur spirit couldn't have jumped a generation."

"Mother!"

Galvanized by Grandma's return to form, Mom picked up the coffee mugs and took them into the kitchen. Her habitual polite expression snapped back on and our trip through an alternate dimension was over. Mom put the mugs in the sink and checked out the kitchen, admiring the granite breakfast bar, the gleaming cabinetry, and the state-of-the-art fixtures, all in showroom condition. "It's a beautiful kitchen. Very functional. And it's spotless. Does your...friend cook?"

I didn't doubt Ranger could cook if he wanted to. I'd seen him toast a bagel and make a salad just like a pro. I shrugged. "Ranger works really long hours so his housekeeper usually cooks for him."

Mom sniffed. She was reserving judgment. "Is he already at work at this hour?"

"He's out of town for a few days."

"Hmm," she responded, her eyes turned speculatively towards the closed door at the end of the hall. There was a long pause during which I could practically hear the wheels turning as Mom thought about the sleeping arrangements and the implications of Ranger's absence. "Stephanie, would you call that young man now so he can take us down to the car? I have to drop off your grandmother and do some grocery shopping."

"Sure."

"I want to look around the gym and the locker room first," Grandma insisted. "I want to see how all those big, muscley men keep themselves fit; maybe they can give me some exercise advice."

Right. That's the only reason Grandma wanted to ogle good-looking men stripped down to their gym shorts, so she could pick up fitness tips.

There was an awkward pause at the door before Mom pulled me to her and we hugged. She pecked my cheek before letting me go. Lester escorted them to the elevator and I gave them a finger wave, unable to speak for the lump in my throat.

I had another, quiet, cup of coffee then called down to the control room and asked to be put through to Lester.

"You okay, monada?_ [beautiful babe]_ Did it go okay with your mom?"

Totally twilight zone would have been a better description but I kept that to myself. "Yeah, it was fine. Did the guys survive Grandma?"

Lester snorted. "She cleared out the gym. Wanted to check if Bobby's muscles were real; wanted to check him out all over."

I cringed a little. I love my grandma but sometimes she's a little too vaudeville. "Do you and Hank mind if we start digging on Alicia after lunch? I have to go into the bonds office this morning."

"No problem. We'll print out the searches so you can start analyzing them when you get back."

I smiled. It felt good that they acknowledged my peculiar talents. "Thanks, Les. Hey, do me a favor? Run some searches on her dad's soldiers, going back awhile; I think we should dig into possible links from her childhood – you know, family body guards who may still have a soft spot for her from when she was little, that kind of thing."

"That's a great idea. Okay, we'll broaden the parameters."

oOo

The hour spent with Mom and Grandma had been emotionally exhausting – in a surprisingly good way, but it had earned me some Boston crèmes. As I wasn't planning on staying out long, Woody and I took one car and we stopped off at the bakery on the way to the bonds office. I breezed in with two dozen donuts, minus four that Woody and I ate on the way in. Woody stayed in the shiny black SUV, parked curbside right out front, and enjoyed the last of his bounty while I went in to face the third degree.

Connie and Lula looked up from where they were hunched over the computer screen and whooped when they saw me. Could be the donuts that inspired the whooping. We worked our way through breakfast while I filled them in whenever I could get a word in edgeways between their questions. Their primary interest was hearing the details of my breakup with Morelli and the inside scoop of what was happening in Ranger's bed. My primary interest was in dodging those same details and getting out intact.

After they had pumped me for all I was willing to give them, Connie finally handed over four skip files and a check.

"Rangeman said to make the whole amount out to you," she said.

I stared down at the check for Bordhern with Lula looking over my shoulder. She whooped again.

"Didn't I say you could take that sucker?" Lula declared. "You should listen to me next time. You should have more confidence, especially when you got me watchin' yo' back. You earned yo'self fifty big ones, girlfriend. That's gonna buy you a shitload of shoes."

My eyes glazed over and the three of us observed a moment of awed silence as we contemplated the possibility of a closet full of new designer heels. Then I remembered I needed to replace everything Alicia had slashed, refurnish and restock my apartment, find another car to replace the Mustang, pay off Macy's, and pay for Ranger's new watch.

I pocketed my check and grabbed the four skip files. "I better get going. I've got some searches to do at Rangeman." I gave them a finger wave and took off to deposit my loot. The visit to the bank was much more satisfying than usual, even though I knew the five-figure balance wouldn't last long.

Woody and I took a detour on the way back to Rangeman to scan for one of the new skips Connie had given me. Gilbert Salieri, who spent his days and all his money on maintaining a whoopy weed daze, had approached an off-duty cop in the 7-11 car park hoping to swap some 'A-grade shit' for the tub of Cherry Garcia the cop had just bought. Bertie was pretty thick with Dougie and Mooner and I figured he would be an easy pick up.

Bertie opened the front door of his shared abode wearing saggy underwear and old sports socks with holes in the toes, and a floppy, white, fisherman's bucket hat. Must have been watching _Gilligan's Island_ reruns. Thin as a reed, with knobby knees and elbows, he blinked at us through dazed, red-rimmed eyes. He had no idea he'd missed his court date and was very apologetic about making us wait for him to pull on some jeans. We didn't bother cuffing him and, all the way to Trenton PD, he kept apologizing for inconveniencing us.

I checked the PD lot for Morelli's police issue rust bucket but I couldn't see it. The station was unusually quiet, just the desk sergeant, an old guy nearing retirement who paid me cursory attention and processed Bertie with speedy efficiency. I took the body receipt and turned to go, and Morelli walked in through the door.

We both froze, uncertain of how to respond. Woody walked on toward the door, nodded politely to Morelli. He looked at me and jerked his head toward the parking lot to indicate he'd wait for me outside.

Morelli recovered first and put his cop face firmly into place. "Hi," he said.

"Hi, Joe," I greeted him cautiously, approaching to within three or so feet of him.

He cleared his throat. "I talked to Father Gabriel this morning and explained the situation."

"Oh. Thanks, Joe. I appreciate it." It surprised me that Morelli had acted so quickly but I was relieved he'd taken that difficult task out of my hands. Making the call would have been a bitter pill for him. "Is there anything I need to do?"

Morelli shook his head. "No. I took care of it."

"Okay, then. Thanks." I nodded. "I was going to make some calls tonight to cancel the invitations for Saturday week. Do you want me to ––?"

Morelli's smile was rueful. "The rumor mill's spinning. I don't think we need to do much."

Connie had told me that his mom and Grandma Bella had been on his doorstep this morning, much the same way my mom and Grandma had arrived to straighten things out with me. I knew this latest incident was already being woven into the colorful tapestry of Chambersburg mythology.

"I've asked Mooch to make some formal calls on my behalf; you could ask Mary Lou to do the same for you," he suggested.

"I'll think about it. What about..." I hesitated for a moment, "...the christening this weekend, and Grandma Bella's—"

Morelli shook his head. "Not your problem. I'll deal with my family, you deal with yours."

"Okay," I nodded, "that makes sense. Thanks. I better get back to work. Take care, Joe."

He stood silent as I stepped past him to the door.

"Stephanie?"

I turned to look at him.

"You don't need to avoid me, okay? I'm going to need some time to..." he shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid, "But there's no need to make it more awkward than it already is. We can be civil, right?"

"Sure. Yeah, we can do that," I agreed, my voice struggling to get past the lump in my throat. I nodded like a bobble-head doll and my eyes started to prickle with tears. I blinked hard. "You're a good man, Joe."

"Yeah, that's me." His smile didn't succeed, twisting bitterly at the end, and he turned away abruptly to return to his office.

oOo

The rest of the day I spent at Rangeman with Lester and Hank, buried under an avalanche of background reports on Alicia. As well as our searches, we had phone and banking records, and surveillance reports on her movements since Rangeman had taken on Andy Lopez' security.

"How did we get these?" I asked Lester, looking up from a transcribed phone conversation with her grocer that informed me that Alicia had personally ordered some fresh asparagus.

Lester stared back at me silently.

"We've bugged her phones? Jesus, Lester. You guys scare me sometimes."

Lester shrugged. "We're responsible for Andy's security. She's dangerous to others, not just to you."

Hank sat back in his chair to stretch out his shoulders. "So far we've got nothing; no old flames, no recent contact with any of her father's soldiers or associates. She must have found a local hire to deliver the flowers."

Lester shook head. "We know she's not connected around here. Unless she's been making contacts in her dreams, she hasn't been near any local talent."

"That's another thing," I interjected. "There's something odd about how the roses were delivered. If she paid a local guy to scare me off or punish me or give me some kind of message, he did a rotten job. I can't see Alicia putting up with incompetence. But if it's someone she knows, maybe someone who's doing her a favor, maybe she didn't realize he wasn't doing the strong-arm stuff."

Two manly brows twitched. Lester sighed. "Okay. We'll think of where else to dig and then run some more searches tomorrow when we're fresh. I'm gonna call it a night."

oOo

Ranger didn't turn up overnight. Admittedly, he had been gone only two days so it was unlikely he'd be back so soon, but I still hoped I'd wake up with him next to me. A girl can dream, right?

I missed our daily phone calls. He never called when he was 'in the wind' but I'd gotten used to hearing his voice and the comfort of sharing the details of our day. Although the most significant event in my life since he'd gone I wouldn't share over the phone anyway. The best I could do to get some happy was a Bulgari shower-gel experience.

After breakfast, I dragged my ass downstairs to meet Lester and Hank. We spent another four, frustrating hours prying into the lives of former and current employees and associates of the Alvarez-Pereira clan looking for possible connections between any of them and Alicia. Nothing but dead ends.

By midday I was stir crazy and itching to get out of the building. "Lunchtime," I announced.

Lester pushed back his chair. "Let's go out to eat. Maybe a change of scene will help."

"I want a burrito," Hank said, as he stood and stretched his arms.

I admired the spectacle of Hank's muscles working beneath his t-shirt, then glanced away before I was caught gawking. "Sorry, no can do, guys. Paco's down from New York and I'm taking him to lunch."

Lester grinned at me. "I hope you're taking him to Shorty's because I'm watching your body today, and I'd kill for a pizza."

"I'm thinking Pino's."

Lester's grin turned wry. "I'm thinking that after Sunday's events, you might want to go somewhere that's not in the 'burg."

He had a point; in the eyes of the 'burg, taking another man to lunch at Pino's would be a lot like throwing it in Morelli's face. My mood deflated further.

Lester winked at me. "Hey. You know all of us here have got your back, right?" I cracked a smile.

"Are you going to be gone the whole afternoon?" Hank asked.

I shook my head. "No, it won't be a long lunch."

We all took the elevator down to the garage and peeled out in three cars, me leading the procession in the Mercedes, Lester and Hank exiting behind me in two shiny, black Explorers. Hank turned south, headed for _Casa Bella_ on Hudson for his burrito, and Lester followed me east on State Street.

I was meeting Paco at a friend's photography studio that he was checking out for the calendar shoot. He thought it would be easier for him to come to Trenton than to control twelve crazy old ladies in New York, and he'd come down to organize the details and equipment for his borrowed premises in preparation for the shoot the next week.

Paco was on the sidewalk talking to a skinny guy with a goatee. I parked the Mercedes and Paco threw me a big grin, ended the conversation with the goatee guy and turned to grab me in a tight clinch to spin me around off my feet. We were both laughing by the time he put me back down on the ground. Lester leaned back against the Explorer and watched us, shaking his head slightly.

Paco grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door of the studio. "We won't be long," he assured Lester, "I need to show Steph how things are going to work so she can help me explain it to her grandmother."

"Nope, I'm coming in," Lester insisted, and followed us into the reception area. He wasn't going to let me out of his sight in an unsecured building.

The studio itself was a stripped down warehouse-type space, with walls painted matte black, big studio lights on adjustable stands and fixed to ceiling struts, reflective screens, light diffusers, pulleys and props. Lester checked out the security and rear exits and Paco showed me around while he explained how he was going to set up the shoot. The space was relatively small and it didn't take long.

Half an hour later, Paco and I pulled up outside Shorty's. Lester sat on his own in a corner between the front and rear exits and his back to the wall with a clear view of the whole room. He got to work immediately on a blond waitress and I watched as she settled in the chair next to him within thirty seconds of Lester smiling at her.

We ordered and Paco slid a black leather box across the table. Ranger's birthday present. I hadn't paid much attention to the photos of the watch, being much more amused at the time by Paco's accolades. I opened the box to take a good look at it. The design was deceptively simple despite all the techno-slick features Paco had raved about. It was sleek, elegant, understated, matte black with a non-reflective face, and it weighed much less than I expected. It was beautiful and tasteful, perfect for Ranger.

"It does everything but make coffee, if I recall correctly," I joked. I glanced at the inscription on the back.

Paco smiled. "It says exactly what you asked for on the phone. And seeing it's in Spanish, I'm assuming it's not for your Italian fiance." He looked pointedly at my naked left hand and then back at me. "Former fiance?"

I took a sip of my coke and stared down at the bottle. "Yeah. But I don't want to talk about it, Paco."

He could read between the lines. "Okay, we won't. But I hope Ranger appreciates it."

Oh, boy. Whenever I thought about what I was admitting by giving the watch to Ranger, it freaked me out. I wasn't ready to talk about it to anybody. Our pizza arrived and we turned our attention to the food.

While I ate, Paco talked about the shoot. He normally had five or six assistants on a big commercial shoot, but he'd be using a skeleton crew of two for the calendar. Georgie, the makeup artist, would get each model into costume and take care of hair and makeup and then hand them on to Sam for the set-up. Meanwhile, Paco wanted me to keep them quietly seated in the reception area while he and his team handled one old lady at a time.

"Are you deranged? We'll never get out of there alive. I can't even control Grandma when she's on her own. It'll be like herding cats."

"I'll bribe them."

"With what?"

"I'll think of something. Let's go talk to your grandma and see what we can work out."

"You want to go now?"

Paco shrugged. "No time like the present. We're shooting next week."

I looked across at Lester, who was whispering something into the waitress's ear that was making her lick her lips. He looked straight over at me and I gestured my head towards the door. We left money on the table and headed out.

oOo

Under the guise of coffee and cake in my mother's living room, serious business was going down. Mom was next to Grandma on the couch, I was in the armchair in the corner and Lester had escaped from his original seat on the couch, where Grandma had enjoyed easy access to his person, to take up a defensive position on my dad's easy chair. Paco and Grandma were horse-trading across the coffee table.

Mom, Lester and I swung our heads between the two of them like spectators at a tennis match. Lester and I were having a good time with it; there was no popcorn but we were polishing off the coffee cake. I snuck a glance at Lester, who wasn't even trying to suppress his grin. Mom looked like she'd be having a visit with Johnnie Walker as soon as we left.

Paco was going in for the kill. "Edna, if you or any of the others so much as blink out of turn, you can kiss good-bye to any chance of me inviting Warren Beatty to the launch. In fact, if I'm not happy with the photos, I'll pull out altogether."

Grandma narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you playing hard ball with a bunch of vulnerable old ladies?"

"Yes, I am. And you are not a vulnerable old lady; _you_ are a she-devil."

Grandma blinked a couple times, trying to look hurt and innocent, but Paco wasn't buying it.

Grandma dropped the ill-attempted ingenue look and leaned forward with a business-like glint in her eye. "I've got some conditions, too. We give you our full cooperation, and _you_ bring six real lookers to the launch. They don't all have to be celebrities but they've got to have all their parts in working order, you know what I mean? And Warren Beatty launches the calendar with me."

Paco held out his hand across the coffee table. Grandma shook it. A small whimper came from Mom's seat.

I helped clean up the dishes and we made our way out. Mom looked pale and dazed but was holding it together enough to bid us a dignified goodbye. "Thank you for dropping by. Stephanie, are you coming to dinner Friday night?"

"Sure, unless something urgent comes up for work. I'll call you."

Lester and I stepped onto the porch, just in time to see Alicia racing in four inch heels from behind Ranger's Mercedes and into the passenger seat of a waiting silver sedan. The car burned rubber as it screeched away.

I looked back at the Mercedes. It looked intact, except for a plume of smoke coming from where a burning rag had been stuffed into the gas tank. Uh oh.

Lester and I flung ourselves onto the other three, pushing them back through the door and onto the floor as the gas tank exploded. The concussive boom of heat and noise rocked over us and various car parts flew out in concentric shock waves. I heard screaming. Might have been me and mom.

Lester helped everyone off the floor and checked quickly that no one was hurt before taking out his phone to report in to Tank. On unsteady legs, I helped Grandma and Mom get to the sofa. The two of them were chattering in an adrenaline high. Paco was watching the action from the door and Lester was outside, securing the scene. Sirens were already at the end of the street.

I'd caused the destruction of Ranger's newest, late-model, luxury sports car. Again. I knew what he'd say; I could even hear his voice in my head: _Things can be replaced, babe. People can't._ But I was bowed down by the guilt of it. My cell phone interrupted my self-pitying thoughts with the sound of the bat-theme.

I stared at the phone in disbelief. Ranger was off with the wind, possibly in some far-flung corner of the globe; he couldn't know I'd killed another car. This had to be a coincidence. I walked to the kitchen to answer in privacy.

"Hey, Ranger."

"Babe, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Everything's good." And it was. Hearing his voice created a rush of warmth right down to my toes that made everything okay. Well, not everything. The Mercedes, the Rangeman Explorer and several of the neighbor's cars weren't okay. "Why are you asking? Are you back in Trenton?"

"I'm at the airport in Arizona on my way back. Your car went off the grid."

"How can you know that if you're in Arizona?"

Ranger raised his left eyebrow, waiting silently for more information. I couldn't see him but I _knew_ that's what he was doing.

I sighed. "It was parked outside my parents' house and Alicia blew it up while Lester, Paco and I were having coffee and cake inside. No one was hurt. The car is a write-off, though. I'm really sorry, Ranger."

"Babe, it's not your fault. As long as you're not hurt, the rest isn't important."

His reassurance made my eyes prickle so I had to blink away the blurry vision. "I was tempting fate. I knew I should have swapped it out for the Buick."

"I told you it was yours as long as you wanted. I meant it. Has Alicia been made?"

"Yeah, there were half a dozen eye witnesses and Lester's giving the police everything we've got on her. But there's still no lead on her accomplice. He was probably driving the car today."

"I'll handle him. I'm calling Tank now to put more men on you 24/7. Morelli is just going to have to deal with surveillance on his house."

Ranger hadn't heard about me and Morelli. He thought I had moved in as planned. This was where the rubber hit the road.

I took a breath. "No need to put anyone on Morelli's house. I didn't move in there. I'm staying on seven."

There was a long silence on Ranger's end of the line. Just the white noise of airport bustle in the background. The long pause made me nervous. "Is that okay? I can move back to my apartment as soon as Dillon's finished with the maintenance work. It'll only be a few days –"

"Stephanie, it's okay. It's very okay. Stay as long as you want."

When Ranger used my whole name he was either really serious or really pissed off. I was going with the former and I blew out a breath.

He sounded hesitant when he next spoke. "Are you postponing the move?"

"No. I'm not moving in with him at all. We ended the engagement."

Ranger didn't respond and the long silence seemed even longer as my heart began to race. This was a big conversation and not one I planned to have over the phone. I could hear my pulse in my ears. The urge to break the tension got stronger and I knew I'd be blurting out something stupid any second if Ranger didn't speak.

I heard him suck in air. "I need to call Tank before my flight boards, babe. But you and I have unfinished business."

"Yes, we do."

"I'll see you when I get back. We're going to talk."

"Okay. How long does it take to fly from Arizona, anyway?"

"I'll be back at Rangeman in eight hours."

"Ranger?" I got in before he disconnected. He waited for me to continue.

"I'm really, really sorry about the car."

"Babe. If it'll help you feel better, I'll consider some suitably pleasurable forms of atonement for you. You might even enjoy the experience as much as I will."

Holy hot flash. I leaned against the cabinets.

Ranger disconnected without saying goodbye but that was okay because I was doing a fish imitation and couldn't talk. I put my phone on the counter and opened Mom's pantry, pulled out her Johnnie Walker and took a slug.

oOo


End file.
